The Silver Bullet
by innovare
Summary: Within the city of Ramin, lays a deadly secret, which is believed to exceed the finding of Merlin's weapon. However, trouble follows close on SG1's heels, forcing the mission into a stalemate. Can they undo it before it's too late? Or will they face the consequences of their decision? - Slight crossover with SGA
1. Prelude

**Copyright** **: existing characters belong to MGM and the creators of the Stargate Franchise. Story written for fan fiction.**

 **Autho** **r: lezaanv**

 **Summary** **"Within the city of Ramin, lays a deadly secret, which is believed to exceed the finding of Merlin's weapon. However, trouble follows close on SG1's heels, forcing the mission into a stalemate. Can they undo it before it's too late? Or will they face the consequences of their decision?"**

 **Characters** **: Lt Colonel John Sheppard, Rodney McKay, General Jack O'Neill, Lt Colonel Samantha Carter, Daniel Jackson, Teal'c**

 **Timeline** **: Alternate Timeline (SG1 Season 10, SGA Season 03)**

 **Please be advised** **: story has not been beta'd. I apologize in advance for any mistakes. They are unfortunately mine.**

* * *

 **Prelude:** THE SILVER BULLET

 **In a universe parallel to the year 2007**

He could feel the tremble in his fingers. His palms moisten with sweat, while the rest of his body quivered in angst. He halted in stride, peered at the yawning gap and swallowed.

"Screw this." He declared as he backed up. Inhaled a deep breath and then set off.

"McKay!" Sheppard called out, but it was too late.

His boots split the water's surface in two, its cool temperature enveloping his body like a soft blanket. From above, the Colonel watched in vain as the surroundings stilled altogether.

Curled in a tight ball, Rodney fought against the raging nerves, pleading for them to calm down. It was an idiotic ploy, an asinine misnomer, especially for someone like him. But, when the sliver of a recent memory came to mind, it instantly made sense. Today of all days, he was alone. He had reason to fear this venture.

 **ATLANTIS: 3 DAYS AGO**

"We're going to do what again?" Rodney asked as he turned the corner.

"Explore." Sheppard supplied as he caught up with the Canadian's stride.

"That's it? What a lame attempt . . ."

"I thought it would be obvious to _Mister Impossible_." Sheppard smirked, whilst his friend glared annoyed. "Now that you've recovered from the gunshot wound, I'll inform the SGC that you're too tired to lend a helping hand."

"I didn't say that." Rodney countered with an accusing finger.

"The foremost expert on the Stargate is too busy for a quick jaunt. Too cool for school."

"That's me." He agreed with delight.

Sheppard rolled his eyes in retort. "The team who has saved the world countless times, they're too boring for the _great_ Rodney McKay."

"Now, let's not go overboard there."

"He's moved on to better . . . no wait." He stopped mid-stride and gestured dramatically. "He's moved on to _greater_ things. The Lt Colonel's simply no match for our McKay."

Rodney snorted in reply.

"I get it; you've tasted our galaxy's forbidden fruit, rendering earth . . . _mundane_ in comparison. You've outgrown it." The Colonel initiated their trek with a wry smirk, Rodney lagging behind. "Nah, you made the right decision."

"Hey, I never had earth to begin with." He corrected. "I helped save their alien's sorry ass from the 'Gate, and as reward they sent me to Russia. Then a year later, I got a call back to _assist_ in defeating Anubis. Years passed before I volunteered for this expedition, but that wasn't enough either. They hauled me back again. For what?"

Sheppard glanced at him, brow furrowed. "As I recall, it was a quick family outing to prove your sister's theory."

Rodney dismissed it with a quick wave of the hand. "Whatever, these last few months I've spent most of my free time traveling on the Daedalus. When, in fact, we should be harvesting Gates. What am I? A damn yoyo? No, Sirree, the SGC's had plenty of opportunity."

"John. Rodney." Dr Weir acknowledged unexpectedly. Both gazed up at the Operation's balcony, one with expectancy, the other in reluctance.

"All geared up and ready to go?" She asked, eyes sparkling with interest.

"As ever." Sheppard replied cheerfully.

"Good." She dipped her chin in accord. "We'll dial the 'Gate within the next minute or so."

"Thank you, Elizabeth."

"Can't believe she's on-board with this." Rodney griped. "If I were in her shoes, I would ground these trotters of mine."

Sheppard's lips curled into a sardonic smile, his friend scowling in curiosity. They faced the Stargate simultaneously and stood shoulder-to-shoulder.

"A wicked jargon comes to mind."

"Oh no, please spare me." Rodney revolted, shoulders slouching with the reply.

" _Join the navy, see the world_." He supported the prolific sentence with the sweep of his hand and then lowered it.

"What did you imagine once you joined the Stargate Program? That you'd see the universe from a laptop?"

"A man can dream."

Rodney gazed up as if recalling a fond memory. The Colonel shook his head at the absurd act.

"This is live stream buddy, toe-to-toe with the enemy, in the action . . . so much better than sitting behind a desk, tinkering with useless gadgets. It's just so darn exhilarating baby."

"Yes, _so_ much better." Rodney's gaze levelled with the 'Gate, gritting his jaw in dislike.

Sheppard glared, annoyed by the scientist's jab. He acknowledged the guards on duty, and then watched as the 'Gate began its spinning sequence.

"You were so gung ho about the invitation. Now, you're like a three year old who wants to play robot wars. When you should be enjoying that _favourite_ tender, succulent steak . . . on earth."

"Sounds like a good idea . . ." Rodney began, appreciating its flavour, when he realized the age was a deliberate comment. "Hey, I resent that insult."

"Colonel Sheppard, Dr McKay." Elizabeth interrupted once more. A soft smile quirked her lips as she regarded the men. "I'm proud to announce that you've received the _all-clear_ signal. Enjoy and godspeed."

"We will. Thank you." John declared with a sweet smile of his own.

"Oh yes, we're _overwhelmed_ with deep gratitude; _ecstatic_ beyond compare. Can't wait to see ol' Goldie Locks again. Match our intelligence; see who wins this round. Simply can't wait."

"That's the spirit!" Sheppard cuffed his shoulder in mock pleasure. Then shoved him forward.

"C'mon McKay. Time to go."

"This is not fair." He protested.

"All's fair . . ."

Rodney glared sternly.

The Colonel halted before the event horizon, expression creased in a sardonic grin.

He leaned over. "In love and . . ."

"Don't you dare finish . . ." He quickly threatened with a raised forefinger as he followed behind.

 **PRESENT DAY**

"You just had to go and jump down the well without apprising me of the situation." Sheppard professed upset.

The astrophysicist barely heard the irritated complaint penetrate through the volume of water. He shoved it aside, and spun around until he found the copper ladder that descended down from the ledge. It was lop-sided, one bolt still burrowed deep in the concrete slabs. Broken where it touched rock bottom twenty feet away, but he didn't have to go down that far.

He swam deeper, found a feasible spot to anchor himself, and fished for the flashlight inside his pocket. Once retrieved, it spiralled from his grip and floated away in the opposite direction.

He cursed the clumsiness aloud and swallowed a mouth full of filthy water.

"I heard that." Sheppard called out as the bubbles reached the surface. "Humans aren't fish you know."

McKay stilled for a few seconds, shuddering as the distasteful liquid settled in his stomach. Face creased as if he'd eaten a lemon. He stiffened again, shocked, and terrified, sensing the nausea form in the pit of his stomach.

What had possessed him to take the plunge? To harm his insides for something that might turn out as a possible dud. No, this was urgent, serious, and catastrophic. Apocalyptic even. Ignoring the spell of phobias, he channelled everything he had into their objective. It was important. Life and death kind of important.

However, the fear of drowning still clawed its way to the surface of his psyche. Likewise, the fact that the walls felt like it was closing in on him, threatening to squeeze life and limb into a pulp.

Should he panic? No, that was the last thing he should do.

Swim to the surface? Not until he had proof.

Die? Definitely not the first thing on his mind.

Determined, Rodney opened his eyes, scoured through the murkiness, and found the flashlight sinking past his feet. Desperate, he clawed after it, fingers barely touching its head, but it moved to the left and away. He cursed its useless existence, and tried again, straining his back muscles with the reach, and caught it in the nick of time.

Successful, the Canadian pressed down hard on its button, but the flashlight stayed dormant. With fervent urgency, he jammed its butt end against his palm. It flickered like a faulty turning signal before it finally came to life.

He gasped in horror; then shrivelled with the aftertaste. Focussed on the task and squinted at the titanium shimmering in the abyss. His blue eyes expanded in shock, fear slithering its way down his frame.

"Don't make me come down there, Rodney."

Sheppard's distant warning jerked him from the trance, and the water's surface lit up, revealing his form as he combed the light over the encircling walls. Sudden gooseflesh ran along his skin, an irrepressible shudder following quickly in its wake.

Today was supposed to be a gas, a break away from their daily routine. Instead, it had turned into a nightmare with a nasty silver light show. Exactly what he'd predicted would happen. He shuddered all over again.


	2. Not As It Appears

**CHAPTER 2** : NOT AS IT APPEARS

 **RAMIN**

Daniel Jackson meandered into the surveillance room. Scoured every square inch from left to right, noting that its interior held the uncanny resemblance to an asgard ship's bridge. Helped the skimming glasses back onto the bridge of his nose, lifted his chin, and squinted into the white fluorescent light. Above, its crown curved like a dome, though, its pinnacle appeared more oval than round. LED lights lined its shape in four rectangular strips and extended from the walls towards the ceiling's epicentre.

Nesra moved past him, beckoned with a hand gesture, whilst General O'Neill remained at the door.

He observed the dark skinned man as he guided the archaeologist towards a console. Observed how his eyes sparkled with wonder as the translucent display emerged before them.

Jack sighed exasperated. This was Carter's department not Daniel's. Then why was it that a bookworm volunteered to inspect defence systems? Whilst the Colonel perused the planet's archives with Teal'c as her backup?

He gazed at the P-90 fastened to his combat vest, lost in thought.

Supporting her normally fell in line with his specialty, not the other way around. However, he was stuck to desk now. General of Homeworld Security. Times had changed, and out with the old, sadly, fit the job description.

It's not that he respected the way Sam had divided them in their different roles. It's that he loathed the babysitting part, while she was out there exploring . . . without him.

Jack shifted it from memory, lifted his gaze, and watched how the nerds huddled around the screen. Frankly, it would take every ounce of self-control he had to stay out Carter's way. His shoulders slouched with the revelation.

When seconds later, a slight change in Nesra's demeanor drew his attention. Daniel's posture changed as well, like they shared a common goal and it triggered a sickening feeling in his stomach.

One hand relocated down to the P-90's safety, whilst the other hand curled around its grip. Jack straightened in posture and instantly moved into a defensive stance. In that moment, the excitement felt good. The rush of adrenaline intoxicating, but he had to focus, stay alert. For if things continued down this line, danger lurked around the corner.

* * *

Meanwhile, within the city's epicentre, Sam and Teal'c followed along the plaza's walkway. Their gazes fixed on the sixty-story building as it sparkled in the sun. Upon closer inspection, Sam noticed that dozens of diamond-shaped windows encased most of its exterior. Whereas sizeable steel cylinders held its structure firm in place.

The Jaffa slowed in stride and beckoned at the revolving door with a curtsy. The Colonel nodded her thanks as she passed by. Both came to a standstill beyond its threshold, taking a few seconds to appreciate the natural light soaking the area in an amber-lit glow.

As a whole, it retained a spacious atrium ambiance. Several timber umbrella-shaped pillars sprouted into the air. Their crowns forming like hundreds of stars towards the dome skylight.

In the foyer, contemporary furniture and pot plants were elegant and stylish in appearance.

Their eye line drifted to the right, noted the silver gliding staircases leading up to the marble-coated tiers. Then shifted their attention towards where employees entered several golden elevators.

Next to this, from beyond an oak receptionist desk, a slender woman with long black hair beckoned them over. She was to give them the grand tour of the archives, and then they would move on to the governor's office situated on the top floor. There they would engage in negotiations and exchange knowledge on their respective cultures and so forth.

Sam met the secretary half way, moved to take her hand when a familiar voice echoed over the radio.

"SG leader, please respond."

The Lt. Colonel held her hand in apology and stepped away to reply, but Jack intercepted the call.

" _Okay_ , Lt. Colonel."

She imagined how he cursed the habit, and decided to stay on the quiet side as he continued.

"This is a friendly visit remember. As in, we keep our mouths shut and ears and eyes open."

"I understand, General, but it's important. Well, at least I hope it is."

Sam gestured for the Jaffa to stay with the secretary and walked for the entrance.

"Go ahead, Sheppard." She instructed. "What's wrong?"

"We discovered an ancient well of some kind."

"This better be worth the ruckus, Sheppard." Jack replied curtly.

"It is, General. By McKay's reaction and absence ever since the discovery, he might have . . ."

"What did he do now?" Sam quickly interjected.

"Ah, he took the plunge not too long ago."

The line went silent for a short while; Sam filtering through potential jokes Jack would use in this instance.

"Oh for crying out loud! Timmy's stuck in the well?"

The familiar trope triggered a humorous sneer on her lips, but then faded as he spoke sternly.

"I fail to see how this relates to our assignment. And for the record, _Lassie_ , I'm not amused."

"No, Sir, definitely not, but I'll get back to you once he resurfaces. Sheppard over."

"He better Colonel, or you'll be the one stuck in the well. O'Neill out."

"Inform me the minute he does Colonel. We're about to enter their archives, radio signal might turn spotty. SG leader out."

"Affirmative, SG leader. Sheppard out."

John leaned over the ledge. Below, the flashlight moved at a rapid speed, mimicking the movement of a firefly caught in a jar. He backed up with a step, expression creasing in a frown as he evaluated the scientist's odd behaviour. Moreover, Colonel Carter's coded message.

No matter how much she desired to hide their secret from the General, changing the channel on their radios only made things worse.

A sigh slipped through his lips.

In under an hour, their assistance had changed from pleasant to serious. An action that was standard both here and in the Pegasus. But McKay's lack of communication sent an unnerving shiver down his spine. A definite clear contrast to the vocal disagreement back on Atlantis.

John sighed, unusually troubled, and then rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was far from appealing down there. He hoped Rodney surfaced within the next sixty seconds; or else, he would have to take the leap.

 **SGC VIP QUARTERS: AFTER MISSION BRIEFING**

"This is why you dragged me along? For a recon assignment with a fractured SG1."

Rodney resumed his pacing, while John relaxed in a chair, feet up on the table. He grabbed for the mug and took a whiff of its contents. The coffee was rich and creamy, something he savoured for a while before tasting it.

"They're not fractured, Rodney." He rectified. "Cameron and Vala's on leave. Besides, General Landry thought it would be good . . ."

"It's deliberate punishment. Jealousy at best." Rodney gruffly interrupted.

"Of what exactly?"

The scientist halted in stride and glared at the Colonel.

"John, this is not some run of the mill matter. Definitely not a pleasant jaunt. It's serious. To be blunt, it's life-threatening spy crap."

"Look." He set the mug on the table and gazed at him. "I know you're known for the dramatic, but that's overkill, Rodney, even for you."

"Weren't you listening in the briefing room?"

"Apparently not."

John's gaze drifted towards the coffee, wondering why the SGC got the delicious grind and not the Mess on Atlantis. He shrugged it off, while Rodney paced the length of the room and resumed the conversation.

"We're infiltrating a nation who's in possession of a silver bullet. Once we determine its location, we're toast."

"When we do. The Ori's toast. The Wraith's toast. Kapeesh? By the way, this is rich coming from you. In the past when a ZPM was in the mix, you placed Atlantis' safety before those who rightfully needed one. They, like ourselves, depended upon the Ancients for protection from the Wraith. How is this different?"

John leaned against the chair, balanced it on its hind legs, and locked his hands behind his head. The scientist turned towards him, eyes blazing. Clearly, the man had struck a chord, presented something to think about. Nonetheless, it failed to stop him from dampening the unperturbed attitude.

"Why am I the only one who thinks we're playing with fire? Don't you see the repercussions once we fail? They'll turn _It_ against us. _Us_ , Sheppard. We'll be dead before the SGC mounts a S&R mission."

An exasperated sigh echoed in the room as Rodney placed his hands on his hips.

"They won't find any of us. None whatsoever. We'll be gone with the wind. A floating mass of nothingness. A speck of dust. Invisible to the naked eye."

His hands fell to his sides as an image of a 1945 newspaper clipping came to mind.

"Oh my word, we'll be declared casualties of war. Unsung heroes."

"I take it that's not your style?" John questioned sarcastically.

"I'm dead serious." He paused and considered the answer. "Ah, poor choice of words there."

"Really?" John's eyebrow quirked with the question. "Hadn't noticed."

"How can you be so calm?" He exclaimed in a high pitch. "We should up and go before they realise we're gone."

"You know we can't."

The reply stopped Rodney in his tracks, hand frozen on the doorknob. John continued.

"The Daedalus is not due for another day or so. Then we'd have to wait an extra twenty-four hours while they restock . . ."

The chair came down with a dull thud, boots falling from the table as he gazed at Rodney. A wry smile stretched from ear to ear, annoying his friend even more. He resumed.

"It's plenty of time to see what you're griping about."

"I'd hate to say I told you so."

John scowled displeased, eyes narrowed in scrutiny. McKay quickly rephrased the sentence.

"That's _if_ we get that far."

"Yeah, thanks, Mister Positive."

Rodney released the knob and turned towards him. "You know as well as I the reputation SG1 has."

"What about ours?" John asked, doubt finally noticeable.

The scientist discerned the change and sneered shrewdly.

"Exactly! Put the two together and our luck goes out the window. Is that what you want, Sheppard? Do you want that on your conscience?"

John stood from his position, aggravated by the Canadian's tenacity.

"Stop it, Rodney." He snarled, and then cleared his throat. "You're making a mountain out of a molehill."

"It could be our last assignment." He pressed irreverently, but John disregarded it with a stern reply.

"We've done quite a number of missions. All with unforeseen difficulties, and succeeded. On every occasion. We wouldn't be here if we hadn't."

"You'll stake your life on that?" Rodney challenged once more.

"On the legendary SG1, I would."

"And if it goes sideways?"

"You'll have my back. And it _will_ _be_ vice versa, am I right?"

"Very audacious today." Rodney moved for the table, visibly crushed.

Thanks to his friend's confident attitude and uncanny devotion to SG1, he hoped his lack of support didn't affect the mission. That, unfortunately, made him the boy who cried wolf, and he hated every bit of it.

"Yes. Yes, I am." Sheppard declared triumphantly

The facts mentioned were valid, true, and thoroughly considered, exactly the way Rodney had presented it at the briefing earlier today. Still, the rest disagreed condemning the scientist to the imaginative corner, whereas they'd assigned him the babysitting role. It was nothing new or spectacular for the duo. They were in the habit of saving each other's behinds.

Aversely he did agree with the scientist's reservations. Simply due to the minute detail where his friend had been the only voice of reason. Something insignificant he'd trained himself not to misjudge. Expressly if and when Rodney acted the underdog, things normally followed the fubar route. He detested those scenarios.

* * *

"If you think for one second . . ." Sheppard forestalled his rant as a silver object broke through the surface. McKay not far behind.

"What the hell is that?" He exclaimed bewildered. "A helmet?"

Rodney wiped the excessive water from his eyes and face and snarled in annoyance.

"Shut up and throw me a rope. Now." He demanded breathless.

"What?"

He squinted through the sunrays, Sheppard barely in view and retorted slightly annoyed.

"It's yarn woven together to form a thick cord. Normally used for abseiling and hauling stuff."

John sighed at the man's deadpan sarcasm and replied. "I know what it is. I'm wondering why I need to do the heavy lifting if the ladder works just as well. Better even."

Rodney rolled his eyes, sighing exasperated.

"It's not for me, you dodo. I need help hefting it up."

"Oh." He shrugged an apology.

"Yes, yes, hurry up would you? I want to be gone before the rest realise it's missing."

"There's more?" John asked as he jogged in the opposite direction. Towards where a ragged wall mounted amid a field of grass.

"You have no idea." Rodney murmured under his breath, whilst wiping at the annoying droplets trickling into his eyes. Cursed the man's tardiness and shifted the metal object to his other hand. Holding it like a football underneath his arm.

It definitely wasn't as buoyant as it appeared.

Meanwhile, John grabbed for the rope upon arrival. Tied it around a nearby hewn pillar. And once satisfied with the knot, threw it over to the edge. Seconds later, it landed beside the anxious scientist.

John appeared in view once more, expression snarled in frustration.

"You're right I don't know, 'cause for a moment there I thought you'd discovered a sunken treasure."

"Why in Sam hill would you think that?" He replied curtly, securing the rope around the object, and gave the thumbs up as soon as he moved for the ladder.

"I may be a Lara Croft fan." John professed quietly. Next, hauled the line towards the ledge, while for the duration of the climb, Rodney carried the object like a bag of cement on his shoulder.

"Seriously?" He asked once he reached the top.

"What? She's hot!"

They towed it towards the rest of the gear a few meters away, while John announced with wonder glinting in his eyes.

"And did you see those 50 calibres strapped to her thighs?"

"Ugh, I think I'm gonna be sick."

Rodney sprinted for a severed pillar nearby, and leaned over as he fought against the impending nausea.

The Lt. Colonel watched the scene dubiously. "Jeez, you don't have to go that far, McKay."

He took a few deep breaths, scowling in John's direction and noticed the cynicism on his face.

"No really, I don't feel so good. It better not be that water I gulped down earlier . . . then I'm really screwed."

John ignored the dramatic show with a shrug, and gazed at the object positioned by his feet.

"You're fine, boreholes hold fresh water. And as far as I know, they're lemon free." He bent down eyes narrowed in scrutiny and fingered its smooth top.

"That's not a well, Sheppard." Rodney relayed, gesturing wildly at the yawning gap. "It's a bloody incubation chamber."

"What? For this?" John asked incredulous. "What is this thing by the way? A turtle shell?"

"Be careful." He cautioned upon approach. "I first need to figure out what it does."

"It looks like someone cut a bowling ball in half." John turned it over to examine its flat surface. "And these disks? There's four of them attached to the scuffed metal plate. What do you think it's for?" Fascinated, he brushed his hand over the rings.

"Didn't I say . . ." Rodney began to protest, when suddenly, it expanded into small spheres, activating on its own in a soft hovering sound.

"Oh shit." John exclaimed in surprise and scurried away on all fours. "Are those what I think they are?" He asked as he got to his feet.

Rodney froze in his current position and gazed at the Colonel, dread visible in his eyes.

"I don't know. It depends."

Sheppard observed how Rodney's eyes sought through the area. Followed his eye line and inspected the broken columns, which surrounded them like the Stonehenge. Large gaps in between indicated that they'd withered away through the centuries.

Beyond it to the south, a dais served as a welcoming mat with stairs leading down into the chasm.

"On what, McKay?" He snarled impatiently. "It depends on what?"

Rodney gazed down at the hovering orbs, replying in a rickety tone. "If it will attack us once we move."

The men stared at one another, motionless. After a short while, John looked for something, anything that could help them.

"Well, there's only one way to find out."

Rodney followed his gaze and quickly protested. "Oh no. I refuse to be the guinea pig."

"McKay!" He rebuked. "Since I'm in direct line of sight, your radio's got to do."

John moved his one hand slightly and gestured at the combat vest stashed to his far left. Close to Rodney's feet.

"Channel two."

"What?" His brow furrowed wary of its meaning. "When did that happen?"

"Carter ordered it while you were taking a bath. Now, on my mark . . ."

"He still doesn't know!" Rodney called out frantically. "Why the heck not?"

John snubbed the concern with a counting sequence. "One . . ."

"Sheppard, this is . . ."

"Two . . ."

"Fine, it's your funeral."

Rodney moved down to his haunches; slowly, as not disturb the device, but the spheres detached with a soft pop. Resounded in a high pitch, and then swiftly jettisoned into the air.

"Mark!" Both yelled together as they scattered for safety.


	3. The Plot Thickens

**CHAPTER 3:** THE PLOT THICKENS

"Sheppard."

Rodney stifled a cough. Blinked through the dust that descended around him, and noticed a large rock barrier encasing his position. Ostensibly, the weapon had struck the ruins built into the chasm's southern cliff face. Shattering pillars and concrete upon impact, and rained down debris, which in turn had adversely pinned him to the ground.

He stared at the particles floating within the squared rays, which shone through the fractures of the rubble. He raised his forearm to shield his eyes from the glint, squinting to see what kind of danger he was in and closed them again.

The situation wasn't good. At all. He was on his back, covered up to his knees in packed dirt. Before long, the adrenaline would subside and his body would feel all kinds of pain.

The air felt thick and stuffy all of a sudden. Shallow breaths arose instantly and panic started to tremble in his muscles.

He hadn't imagined dying like this one day. No, he had decided to go down swinging with the greatest discovery known to mankind. Preferably, at an old age. Not find himself in a grave dug by a tortoise shell that jettisoned balls of explosives into the air.

"Colonel."

Nothing but his voice echoed back at him.

"For your information, I was doing great until you wrecked my week."

Another coughing spell started up, smothering the much-needed oxygen from his lungs. The sudden enclosed space felt small, like he was stuck in a gloomy tunnel with no hatch to escape through. It only continued to feed the looming claustrophobia.

A curse slipped past his lips.

It seemed the decision to help had merely fuelled discord. Not to mention the resentment he currently felt. If only Sheppard had listened to him. Left well enough alone. He'd be exploring the databanks of Atlantis, in search of more Stargates to harvest, whilst supervising Zelenka's work, intensively.

Rodney grinned in a sly manner.

He would antagonize the poor sap's progress, cause a deliberate commotion only to show him who's boss. Insult him some more until the verbal match ended in lunch.

Instead, the fate of a race was at stake, while he simmered in a trap . . . again. His countenance turned solemn.

Could it be that John had suffered serious injury, or worse, be dead? Maybe he'd received a concussion, if not, they were in serious trouble. A sudden growl climbed in his throat.

"If we had stayed in the Pegasus Galaxy, none of this would've happened! But no, when SG1 turns on the bat signal, you come running. To hell with Rodney McKay. To hell with his advice. Here's some for ya, _Bat Man_ , ol' boy. My rants do save our asses. Most of the time, but when I actually do . . . it matters. This is your fault, not mine. I refuse to share the blame. That's right, I refuse to bear the consequences. This is all on you, buddy. All on you."

Still, no reply came. The insults should've aroused the Lt. Colonel, but the area remained in its eerie state. Frustrated, Rodney pounded the ground with his fist in rapid procession, calming down on the last stomp.

"Wake up you stubborn, charismatic, messy haired buffoon, good for nothing . . ."

"That's not a very nice thing to say." John grunted sluggish, hand moving for his forehead as sudden pain cascaded over his skull.

"Finally." Rodney said relieved. "I've been calling for hours."

He checked his watch and frowned confused. "It's only been a few minutes, McKay. Anyway, _thanks_ for the wakeup call."

"Well, an alarm clock was out of the question."

"The bowling ball did a way better job thank you."

"Whatever. Listen, where are you? I'm stuck inside a rock pile; kinda did a number on me."

The Lt. Colonel barely heard the scientist, as he shoved the shattered part of the boulder from his legs. Then quickly checked for injuries, before sighing in relief.

Scrapes and bruises were visible beneath the torn uniform, and discoloration was sure to surface the following day. His arms were unscathed, despite the blood that ran down his one forearm. Stomach felt queasy and mind fuzzy, which explained why the scientist's recent inquiry slithered from memory.

"What?" He shrugged unconcerned; it was the first word that came to mind.

Rodney rolled his eyes in retort murmuring under his breath. "Of course, your ears must be shot. Is that why you took so long to respond? It better be!"

John ignored the blatant shout and exclaimed. "Where are you?"

"That's a maybe." He mumbled and then yelled. "Rock face! To the south!"

"Thank you!" Then added in a soft tone. "Moron."

"I heard that!" Rodney retorted offended.

"Of course you did!"

Silence occurred for a brief moment before the Canadian called out.

"Are you free or not?"

"It depends."

"On what?"

"If there's a cold beer included with the invitation."

Rodney mulled over the puzzling reply, while the Lt. Colonel propped himself on his elbows. A dizzy spell came on. He swallowed it down and sat upright. Next, reached for the back of his head, fingers brushing over a deep gash. It would scar no doubt.

"Sheppard!"

John hissed with the shout, grimacing as pain rushed down his neck.

Ignorant, the scientist continued headstrong. "Do I need to explain the urgency of the matter? _Again_! Get me out of here!"

"Like I didn't get enough of it at the SGC."

"I heard that too!"

"Could you chill for a sec, Rodney? My head's not in the mood."

Silence enveloped the chasm for a while as the Lt. Colonel struggled to his feet.

McKay simmered in frustration though, mind raging with accusations. He hated the stillness. This was serious, not dramatic, or condescending. Lives were in danger whilst the Colonel stumbled about like a drunken sailor. Well, by the noise of the man's footfalls, it sure as well sounded like it.

"Even if the rest of those grenades missed their target. Imagine what hundreds; even thousands can do to this planet in a heartbeat. There will be nowhere to hide." Rodney paused. "What if they've left their chamber already? You know where they're going. Right?"

"I get the picture, McKay."

John glanced over the rubble.

West of his location, the blast had covered the incubation chamber with concrete slabs and pillars. Sealed the way out to the south, but with rope, they could scale the cliffs without difficulty. Even so, it all depended upon Rodney's condition, whether those options would suffice.

His gaze came to rest on the scientist's location, and cursed when he saw the extent of the dilemma. Where an oversized dais once was, bits and pieces from the cliff now covered it like a mantle. Ostensibly, the Canadian had dug his own grave, which meant, his only hope now rested on the support of combat engineers.

"It's bad isn't it?"

The Colonel sighed as he heard the concern in Rodney's voice.

"Something like that."

"It would help if I actually saw who I was talking to."

"I can't help that you're blocked in, McKay. The helmet did that for me."

"I'll pretend I didn't hear _that_."

"Good, 'cause it will take some doing. Then we'd have to climb out of here . . ."

"Cut the bull, Sheppard. Give it to me straight. I can take it . . . well, sort of."

"Either I head for the 'Gate and call for backup, or go back to the city and apprise Sam of the situation."

" _Or_." Rodney added urgently, hoping the Lt. Colonel caught on.

"Nope, those are the only options."

"A radio must have survived the attack."

"Or I can try the radio." He revised, and then paused briefly before rebuking. "And don't you roll your eyes at me, Rodney. I have a concussion for Pete's sake!"

"I did not." He quickly countered. "At least you're not the one who's stuck!"

"No sounds either." John added whilst traversing his way over to where they'd left the gear.

"Seriously, that's not . . ."

"The whining too."

"Ah c'mon." The Canadian squealed.

Ten meters away, black material peaked underneath a heap of dirt. John smiled, comforted by the find, and slid down a pillar that protruded above the small rise.

"Chips, McKay. No backseat driving."

He knelt down and dug with his hands until he reached the pockets of the combat vest. Next, tugged it free and noticed the radio straightaway. Still in one piece. Nevertheless, there was a slight possibility that it had sustained internal damage.

Sheppard reached for the contraption, depressing the talk button and took a deep breath.

* * *

 **TEN MINUTES AGO – H.Q.**

"Whatever they're up to, it's working on my nerves."

The Jaffa gazed over to where she sat on the ashen settee, and then examined the atrium bit by bit. A slight scowl furrowed his brow as he inspected its structure.

Overall, the headquarters' makeup displayed a translucent appearance. Although the inside ambiance hid a deceptive nonchalance. He wondered if hiding in plain sight truly fooled a thriving society. Or if those who'd risen up in opposition had merely disappeared over the years.

He placed his hands behind his back and looked at the Lt. Colonel. She stared at the marble floor. Gaze distant whilst her mind reeled through possible outcomes of their visit.

"The secretary appears apprehensive." He declared, shattering the reverie.

She lifted her eye line up towards him. "I noticed it too, particularly when I informed her about the General's tardiness."

She stood from the couch and joined him in viewing the crowd from the waiting area.

During the lunch hour, a sizeable throng of employees had flooded the vast space. Most dispatched to the respective floors to conduct their daily activities. Whereas the least stayed behind and mingled among themselves.

"What if she saw through the lie, Teal'c?"

"I believe you were persuasive Colonel Carter, and what you perceived was only her true nature. It is indeed her duty to protect her leader, like we do ours."

Sam's grip tightened around the Zat strapped to her thigh. A grimace soon followed the action.

"Thanks T, but let's be honest. If Sheppard doesn't respond within the following ten minutes, we're . . ."

A woman screamed in panic. Sam and Teal'c on the immediate alert as glass shards rained down from the skylight above. Like fish trapped in an aquarium, people ran in disarray. When, without warning an explosion outside ripped through the atrium's eastern flank.

Sam dove behind the couch, covering her head as debris pierced the air. Next, sensed the Jaffa next to her, his arm huddled over her back for added protection. In the background, dull thwacks resonated as shooting glass struck the flesh of retreating figures. Before long, extra, smaller explosions followed in its wake.

She immediately recognized the sound as grenade detonations. Ears now attuned, she listened for its origin, yet it was too random to pinpoint the exact location.

They had to do something, had to move from their protective position. Seek out the source before additional, innocent civilians died. However, one question halted the effort, paralyzed the determination.

The cries of wreckage deafened. Neither could she hear the increase of the attack surrounding them. All she could think of in that moment was if Jack had survived the ambush.

Then Teal'c's baritone voice echoed close-by.

"It appears as if the attack is situated in the vicinity of the building. Prompted mainly by movement. Moreover, I do not see a clear way through the destruction. It is indeed a savage tactic." He pulled back behind the couch. Eyes fixed on her troubled countenance and warned in a low tone. "We cannot stay here forever."

"Nor can we move without evaluating the situation." Sam said, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with the Jaffa. "We need to get to those archives ASAP."

"We should contact O'Neill; inform him of what's transpired."

"That's the last thing we should do, Teal'c."

"Do you still think he is ignorant of our true intentions?"

She inhaled a deep breath, mentally calming down and exhaled. Next, ignored the nearby distractions. Filed through her options. And heard a distorted voice demanding a response.

"I repeat: we're trapped, McKay's blocked in; injuries unknown. Sheppard over."

"There's your proof, Colonel Carter. Our motive's known. We need to escape before the rest of the team is disabled."

"No! What we need to do is find those schematics. We've come too far to back down now."

"Samantha."

Her name reverberated in sympathy and she could see the warning in his eyes. SG1 never withdrew so quickly. Plus, it was so unlike her to surrender when the fate of the Milky Way relied upon what they found here today. Furthermore, Teal'c's arguing felt like a thick smog. Her mind refused to settle and process what needed accomplishing at this moment.

A great deal of planning went into this mission. She refused to allow this brutal attack to counter their effort, not when it was within their reach.

Suddenly, the bombardment in the background seeped through her bubble. Cries of help from the injured, debris exploding in the square outside and John's voice adding to the chaos.

"SG leader, unless you comply within the next five minutes, I will take lead and return to the 'Gate for reinforcements. Do you understand? Over."

"Either you select the safety of your team first. Or else you should position it beneath the discovery of Ramin's weapon. Whatever it may be, it needs to be done immediately or Colonel Sheppard will make the call."

"I know, I know."

Sam gazed at the door off to the left, behind the receptionist's desk, and imagined what the archives looked like on the other side.

"We're so close, Teal'c, so close."

"But are you willing to lose SG1 for something that might help win the war?"

"SG leader . . ." She repressed the call, glare furious as he pressed on.

"O'Neill will not blame you for today. And he will not see our withdrawal as a weakness. We can't fight something that wants to destroy us with such vigour."

"I get it!" She growled in return, but then swallowed the anger as she continued in a soft tone. "I get it. Wait for sixty seconds before informing Daniel that we're retreating. Make the 'Gate our rendezvous point." He dipped his chin in accord. "While you do that, I'll contact Sheppard and find out the full extent of their situation. Afterward, we'll navigate our way to safety."

"Affirmative."

She grabbed his hand before he took hold of the radio. His brow furrowed at the conduct, and watched how she bit her bottom lip.

"I will not leave these people in this condition. We're the reason they've suffered so many casualties. We need to take responsibility."

His expression displayed agreement as her blue eyes blazed in fury.

"You find him, Teal'c, and you bring him along. Understood?"

The Jaffa's face lit up with a sly grin and replied. "Indeed."

* * *

 **DEFENSE FACILITY**

General O'Neill emerged from the lone corridor leading into the room. Came to a standstill beyond the threshold and studied the men as they engaged in a light conversation. Checked his watch when the door slid shut behind him, and marked it as ten seconds. Unfortunately, it was parallel with the time it took to open. He exhaled a heavy sigh.

The odds were as clear as day, plain and simple, and he abhorred, detested, and hated it. They could just as well have walked into a safe and locked it, admitting their fate to the enemy. Unless the technician knew of another way, which was something he highly doubted.

The native was the fly in this highly advanced setting, not the other way around.

Jack's gaze moved from Nesra and rested upon his friend, focussing on his posture in particular. He seemed agitated, something that hadn't changed upon arrival. In fact, both still shared the same air, as if they've met before. Like the meeting was prearranged, which made no sense. He was under the impression that this was SG1's first exploration of P2X- 5006. That what they were here to confirm, were just Ancient folklore.

It had to be serious. Did these people really defeat a Goa'uld fleet centuries ago? Or were they in cahoots with the enemy? These were the questions floating on the surface, but what festered beneath it? What were they hiding from him?

He closed his eyes briefly, recalling the events before the mission and then opened them.

Firstly, there was the locker room incident, wherein the Lantean's had had a vague, yet enlightening conversation. Carter's take-charge attitude from the get-go. Teal'c's resigned appearance, with that subtle concern glimmering in his eyes. Sheppard's uncanny communiqué earlier and now Daniel's behaviour. The whole thing triggered that sickening feeling for a second time.

What secret was worth so much that they'd agreed to keep it from him?

Jack cleared his throat intentionally. Daniel glanced over his shoulder, scowled as if he'd missed something important and walked over.

"You called."

His eyebrow quirked as Jack's eyes moved from his feet and came to rest on his eyes, which narrowed in all seriousness.

"Found anything yet?"

Daniel shook his head.

"Nothing suspicious?"

"No." He said in a whisper and glanced over his shoulder.

Jack scowled curiously. Followed the gesture with his eyes, noting just in time how Nesra re-initiated work on the console. He ignored it for the moment.

"Weren't you listening in on the team's conversation?"

"Nope." Daniel scrutinized Jack's annoyed expression. "What's up?"

"What have you been doing all this time?"

"Oh, you know, inspecting, investigating, probing . . . my job."

"Daniel." O'Neill warned.

"Jack." He retorted with mock innocence.

Both glared at each other for a moment before O'Neill narrowed his eyes. He had a funny feeling the archaeologist knew exactly what had transpired over the radio. He raised a questioning eyebrow, scrutinized the man's calm countenance, and stated.

"Sheppard's located a missing piece to the jigsaw. _Presumably_."

Wonder shone in Daniel's eyes, mind envisioning the find. "He has? What is it?"

"Not a clue."

"He didn't say?" He asked a tad let down, but understood Sheppard's lack of clarification.

Jack smiled as he mocked. "McKay, _obviously_ , has the piece in his possession."

Daniel scratched his head in frustration, instantly noting what the General was so subtly implying and grinned slyly. "Indiana Jones flicks?" He offered, lowering his hand to his side.

He knew it was the third movie, definitely, with Jack as Indiana of course. Which indicated that he knew something, but not enough, fortunately.

O'Neill glared; glad his friend had given him a clue. Daniel, in the meantime, cleaned his glasses, unmoved by the scrutiny. Exhaled a gradual sigh returning them to their rightful place, and resumed as if the movie reference never took place.

"Of course, how clumsy of me, we're using figurative language. So it can be a document or a . . ."

"Whatever it is . . . they have it in their sights." Jack replied frustrated.

"Good." Daniel nodded in accord, tilting his gaze at Nesra and turned to leave, when the General stopped him.

"Maybe not."

He followed Jack's gesture, the sound of several detonations halting the action. And then a sudden, strong force hauled them upward. Daniel collided with the ceiling, head ricocheting with the nasty whiplash and lost consciousness shortly thereafter.

Next to him, the General fought against the weight of the energy beam. But his hands moved from the P-90 and hit the ceiling in loud thwacks. Obscure expletives slipped past his lips to no avail. The traction was too powerful. He stilled altogether, and after a while, managed to tilt his head to the left. The direction where he'd last sighted the technician.

Jack's expression snarled in confusion. Nesra was pinned, surprised, terrified and clearly not the one who had triggered the beam. Which meant, things had taken a considerable nosedive. Worse, they were stuck between a rock and a hard place with no means of reversing the effect.

Unless, by some wonder a malfunction saved the day.


	4. The Discovery, Strategy and Execution

**CHAPTER 4:** THE DISCOVERY, STRATEGY, AND EXECUTION

 **DEFENSE FACILITY**

Below, on the western flank, dozens of screens displayed a vivid image of the headquarters. Jack's dark eyes combed over them, absorbing every detail possible.

Mortar rounds bombarded the square in thirty-second intervals; continuing to do so, until it subsided after two minutes. Yet, whenever someone ran out of the building, or if a person attempted to move the wounded, the sequence began all over again.

It did not bode well for Carter and Teal'c.

The General diverted his attention to the entrance. In some way, it distracted his mind from the messy situation. Even so, it merely redirected him towards another problem – the team's secrecy.

Since before the attack, the radio had been awfully quiet. He'd skipped through the additional channels in the event of a secret communiqué, and found nothing. Nada. As if everyone had vanished off the face of the planet, leaving him to fend off the enemy by his lonesome self.

Frustration rushed through his muscles, anger rising with the emotion.

This, in its totality, was a bullshit game of trivial pursuit, and he was powerless and vulnerable to mount a defence. Also, it seemed as if Carter and Sheppard had followed their own course of action. Excluding him from the chain of command.

He grimaced at the idea.

Why risk it if Daniel were in the same bind? It was a reckless move, unprofessional. Teamwork flourished on clear-cut communication. Each member placing his or her own well-being above the other. No one left behind and no one pompous on the battlefield – something he lived by on a daily basis.

With a great deal of effort and a painful grown, Jack tilted his head to the side. His eyes glinted in displeasure as he scrutinized Daniel's unbiased appearance. Ever since awakening from the minor concussion, he'd been brewing as well.

During missions, the archaeologist's first deed involved solving the problem. Yet in this instance, he never struggled against the beam. Not once did he offer up any kind of advice. He stared at the checkered floor, impassive, as if he were a discarded manikin.

Jack knew it was his way of avoiding a discussion. More accurately, he was hiding the real motive behind their visit, not to mention the too coincidental assault on Ramin's headquarters.

It worked in his favour though. They had nowhere to go, and no one except for the discreet Nesra to interrupt him. Making it the perfect opportunity to address the deception head on.

"These Romtoms sure know how to lay out the welcoming mat."

"Raminians." Daniel corrected.

Jack glared displeased, nor blinked as the archaeologist mouthed an apology.

" _Join us_ , he said. Meet the friendly folks. It will do you good, he said. No threat on the horizon. No attack by alien doohickeys. Well, I'm pleased to say. This looks like horns, buddy."

"Oh no, you're not blaming me for this, Jack." A nasty scowl creased Jackson's expression.

O'Neill smiled pleased. " _Ram's_ horns, Danny boy. Ram's horns."

"Let me rephrase that. You _are not_ blaming me for this."

Nesra cleared his throat, swallowing nervously as both gazed with upset expressions.

"If I may intrude upon this conversation."

"I wouldn't if I were you."

"No, Daniel, let the poor man speak. There's always a reasonable explanation, and he is, after all, your friend."

"I didn't say that." He bit back.

Jack scowled, wondering why his friend still hid the truth and exhaled a heavy sigh.

"C'mon Daniel, the game's up."

"I can see that."

"Cut the crap, will ya? This is definitely not a diplomatic mission. And Nash here is no more a technician than I am a backup singer for Bon Jovi."

"Oh wow, what a comparison."

Daniel's sardonic smile faded at a swift speed as Jack growled in anger.

"You're SG1 for crying out loud!"

"Says its former leader. Then you should have declined the offer." He declared words dripping with boldness.

"You painted a lovely picture away from the office. Stretch me legs. Breathe the fresh air. Instead, I'm stuck to the ceiling. While the rest of the team deals with an attack of epidemic proportions. Should I mention the ram's horn bit again? Because it sure feels like it."

"I didn't know this would happen. The plan was full proof."

"Ha! I knew it!" Jack exclaimed victorious, although his expression snarled in puzzlement.

"I still can't figure out why you felt you should keep this from me. Hell! I would've spearheaded the mission myself if I knew exactly what we were after."

"Smokescreen." Daniel whispered defeated.

Jack stared at the archaeologist for a moment before mocking.

"What was that? Couldn't quite hear through the guilt wrapped around your vocal cords."

"You and I, we are a smokescreen, Jack, while the rest of the team completes the real mission. You happy?"

"Do I look happy?" He exclaimed livid. "I'm stuck, glued, whatever the hell this is. And _you_ know how I get when I can't help my friends, Daniel, _my_ friends."

" _Our_ _friends_ , Jack. They're my friends too."

"You should've thought about that, _Dr Elsa_ , when you chose to betray me."

Nesra exhaled an intentional sigh.

"What?" Both thundered in his direction.

"It's only temporary, a nasty side effect once the chelónas activate. If I had ample warning . . ."

"Chelónas?" Daniel asked with sudden interest.

"Argent Chelóna to be precise." He corrected with a delighted smile. Happy to divert attention away from the heated discussion.

"Latin and Greek together convert the names to silver turtle or tortoise. Hangs on what they favoured back then. Intriguing, I must say."

"Obviously." Jack mocked.

"It's also the weapon you've been looking for." Nesra supplied.

"What weapon?"

The men stared at Jack with blank expressions, fuelling his frustration even further.

"Daniel." He growled with livid passion. "If you don't explain what the hell is going on; I'll lock you in the deepest, darkest hole I can get. I promise you, no one will find you, not even a skilled archaeologist in the year 3000."

"Okay, okay." Daniel yielded, to O'Neill's satisfaction.

 **FOUR DAYS PRIOR – BRIEFING ROOM**

A troubling silence hung in the air as General Landry gazed about the table.

Cameron and Vala had left a few minutes ago, each bearing pleased smiles. Whereas the rest of the team sat with grave expressions, reluctant to discuss the next line of action.

"It's not what you wanted, I know, but if we put the opportunity to good use . . ."

Hank left the sentence dangling hoping someone else grabbed the reins. He gazed around the table once more. Noticed that Daniel and Teal'c refused to make eye contact, and then rested his eyes upon Carter who sat to his right.

"If the Intel's accurate, and I stress the _if_ part, I don't see why we can't carry on with the investigation."

"Personally, Sam, we should focus on finding Merlin's weapon instead of this wild-goose chase." Carter glared in Daniel's direction. He shrugged.

"Hey, Mitchell said it, not me."

"How long Dr Jackson?" Hank requested, eyes moving to his left.

Daniel stared puzzled before realising what the General was referring to and specified. "Days, weeks, months . . ."

"And while you're doing that, we'll take a break from missions and watch how the Ori gather more followers." Sam mocked from the side.

"We can't hunt down every . . ."

"This is Cameron and Vala, Daniel. They verified the rumours, _thoroughly_. It's reliable info."

"C'mon Sam, there's no such thing as an untouched planet. You of all people should know that. No evidence of Goa'uld, Replicator or Ori presence? Because an _alleged_ weapon wiped them from the face of the planet. It's preposterous, bizarre even."

"But not unheard of." Teal'c supplied.

"The weapon part, no. Dakara proved that."

"And would you not want to explore this Daniel Jackson? Especially due to its immediate availability."

"They're not going to give it to us if that's what you're implying."

"And what if Merlin's weapon is a dud?" Sam inquired with a raised eyebrow. "All you have are 'Gate addresses. But in this case, we have solid evidence."

Daniel glared, fuming inside. After all these years, how dare they scoff at him? Especially Sam. The glare faded, turned serious as he glanced down at the report. Perhaps something had triggered the sudden change in her behaviour.

"How I do my work is not up for questioning. The information gathered by Mitchell and Vala are." His gaze levelled with Sam. "And need I remind you that in this room, we're free to discuss our reservations as well as our certainties. Like we do in all our briefings – promising or not."

"Then you'll have no problem answering the question, Dr Jackson?" Hank insisted in a polite fashion.

"Fine." He tossed the pen upon the report, Teal'c raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

He ignored the Jaffa and resumed. "There's a slight possibility that it might be a lost cause."

Satisfied, Landry instructed. "Then, for the time being, you fall in line and help plan this operation."

Daniel dipped his chin in reluctance. Leaned back in his chair and pointed out the obvious yet miniscule detail.

"Well, since our spies are known among the Raminians, we need replacements."

"I might have an idea already." Sam grimaced with the mention, drawing his attention. Teal'c too, stared at her with interest.

"Let's hear it, Colonel." Landry relaxed in his chair and braced himself for a long discussion.

She gazed at the General, wondering if she should go ahead with the theory. Bit her bottom lip and ignored the noticeable detail that the men waited on her. She explained.

"We should involve, and it pains me to say this, Rodney and Lt Colonel Sheppard."

"And why consider sucha outrageous summoning?"

"I'm sorry, Colonel but I have to agree with Dr Jackson." Hank interjected. "I have more than enough personnel to fill those positions. Colonel Reynolds and the rest of SG . . ."

"I know, Sir, but, since Ramin's a thriving metropolis, they may share the same allies as the SGC, not to mention our enemies. Unfortunately, it's no secret that we bear a reputation in this galaxy. Rodney and Colonel Sheppard don't. Furthermore, Ramin's on the brink of a postindustrial society. Basically, it's shaped by the human mind aided by advanced technology."

"Akin to what the Ancients accomplished in the Pegasus, which is why McKay's the perfect candidate for the slot." Daniel added bitterly.

He pictured the Canadian in possession of all that knowledge. How he dissected it on a daily basis. It triggered a nasty bout of jealousy within. He cleared his throat, waiting on Sam to continue.

"Additionally, McKay is the only other physicist who has experience on the battlefield. I wouldn't have to worry about his safety like I would with Dr Lee, who, I might add, has little to no combat training."

"Very well." Landry agreed. "I'll take Dr McKay's contribution into consideration, but with the Lt Colonel. He's the military leader of Atlantis. Missions to run, duties to perform, etc. I'm not willing to pull him from those, except if you persuade me otherwise."

"Obviously he's the only one who can work with the Canadian. It's a definite vice versa." Dr Jackson shook his head as an image of the two flitted. He continued. "Crazy, mind you . . . _anyway_ , there's also the fact that he did select the man to be a part of his team. Speaks volumes."

"Daniel's not wrong, Sir. He will fulfil the covert element we need in this instance."

"Do explain." Landry urged with a hand gesture.

"According to Mitchell, there's a chasm northeast of the 'Gate that leads to abandoned ruins. If what our informant discovered is true. It's where the weapon was first developed. McKay's uncanny ability for sniffing out ancient technologies will come in handy, yes. Yet so will John's flair for adjusting on the fly. They'll be operating as a separate entity with no restrictions or fear of detection. No one will know of their contribution."

"Whereas we are bound by the regulations given by Governor Titan." Teal'c clarified.

Sam nodded in accord. "Exactly."

"So I take it this will be a normal mission?" Daniel inquired. "The usual exploration with a good chance of diplomatic."

"Yes." She agreed with a slight wince.

"Hmmm."

His blue eyes squinted behind his glasses. Observing as her hand lifted for her short blond hair and scratched behind her ear. Which was a tell-tale no doubt.

"Somehow you knew it would lead in this direction. It had surfaced during Mitchell's report, correct?"

"Knew what?" Hank asked, interest piqued by the new development.

"I believe Lt. Colonel Carter wants to reunite SG1 for one last mission." Teal'c explained.

Daniel leaned forward as a satirical sneer lined his lips.

"Jack won't go for this, you know that don't you. He hates being kept out of the loop."

"Damn straight he won't." Landry sat upright in the chair, not pleased.

The Lt Colonel's gaze flitted between the men, marking their disapproval. She wouldn't back down with this one, not after what happened on the Odyssey a few days ago. This was redemption for Colonel Emerson's death. Something she could have avoided if she'd only read the situation accurately. She pushed the event aside before tears welled in her eyes, and replaced it with a military mask.

"His attendance will send a message to the governor that we mean business. Teal'c and I can explore the headquarters, specifically its archives. _Come across_ the schematics by accident, whilst Daniel and General O'Neill act as the diversion. For example. Visit the defence facility where Nesra, a researcher and informant, will demonstrate Ramin's security capabilities."

Daniel scrutinized her countenance as she feigned innocence. She definitely hid something of import. A certain drive accompanied the idea of hers, as if she wanted to set something straight.

"McKay and Sheppard recover the weapon, I suppose. And once we have all the necessary info in our possession, we hightail it outta there. No harm no foul, right?"

She shrugged. "Something along those lines."

He snorted at the weak reply. The Jaffa instantly sensing the undertone of discord between them.

"Grand theft technology, Sam."

A deep cackle resonated within Daniel's chest. She glared, unhappy by the disapproval.

"What you're suggesting is branded as a crime _anywhere_ in the Milky Way. They know where we live. What will prevent them from turning that _magnificent_ piece of machinery on us? We don't even know what it looks like!"

"Happy place, Daniel, go to your happy place." She teased, although there was a sting in her voice.

"Don't use Jack O'Neill on me." He warned with an accusing finger.

She sighed in frustration. "Vala described the ruins to us. You were there when she sketched it."

"Yes, details provided by folklore."

"Which is why it's perfect for you. Granted, you won't be the one uncovering their history, but it should fascinate you all the same."

 **PRESENT DAY**

Jack rolled his eyes at the tedious account.

"Fine, I get the picture, jeez, especially the quarrel. And yes, divulging the good part of the plan and the execution of said plan, enticed me enough to come along. Despite the fact that I was against bringing the Lanteans with. It doesn't excuse _any_ of you from doing what you did. You abused my authority, period."

Daniel's countenance mimicked a child guilty for breaking the rules, and remained so for a brief while before responding.

" _Used_ yes, there was no intention of _ab_."

Jack dismissed the correction, focussing instead on the real problem.

"Anywho, it's understandable why Sam pulled rank on the team. Most of all on you." He grimaced with the use of her name and hoped his friend didn't notice.

Meanwhile, Daniel's eyes studied the patterns on the floor, lost in thought and asked ignorant. "What?"

"Lt Colonel Carter." He provided.

"Yes, I know who. I want to know what you're implying."

"Oh, that."

"Yes, that." He scowled bemused. "What did you think I was replying to?"

"Nothing."

Jack stifled a fake cough, hiding the embarrassment. Daniel narrowed his eyes in suspicion.

"What I wanted to say is: that Carter used this mission to rectify what happened on the Odyssey."

"She followed orders, Jack. Like you did on many occasions."

"Yes, but if I remember the report correctly, she delayed the heist at a later stage. If she'd reacted by disabling the subspace beacon and still followed through on her plan, the Colonel would be alive today."

Daniel mulled over the assumption for a good sixty seconds. The other men gazing on whilst their minds raged against the stillness.

"She only did what she thought was prudent in that moment." Daniel defended, and when no reply came, added for good measure. "Before I forget. This is unlike you to test decisions here and now, especially if it involves your former teammates. The same people you trained remember. Or did you forget that over the years you established the outline for us to follow? That you led by example?"

"Yes, I agree, but my status is immaterial. I'm merely stating what's happening inside her mind at the moment. That due to our military training, we're drilled to follow the rules, especially when we're forced to do otherwise. As of late, she's been second guessing it. Doubting herself. And it's created repercussions on a massive scale."

"Name a few . . ."

"All right fine. Not too long ago, she was in a similar situation with Ba'al and Agent Barrett. She caved, and as a result, the SGC sat with a brainwashed Agent, while Ba'al escaped with 'Gate addresses. This time round, her actions, as well as yours, declared war on the Lucian Alliance."

"True, but like I said before, you've done the same thing dozens of times . . . for her, for us. Colonel Emerson's dead, for the very reason that he was a good man who stood by the Air Force's principles. He ordered her not to comply. Likewise with Ba'al's incident. Landry informed her she wasn't to blame. She obeyed both orders as if it came from the horse's mouth – _your mouth_ , Jack."

"Dammit, Daniel! I know!" O'Neill exclaimed frustrated.

"General O'Neill is worried, Dr Jackson. That her judgement has been clouded by double mindedness."

Both men directed their eyes at the researcher.

The tension had been growing like a tornado between the two. And thankfully the energy beam prevented them from assaulting one another.

He carried on. Words laced with confidence.

"Yes, both scenarios resulted in terrible consequences. She feels responsible. Which, over time has influenced her ability to make confident, concise decisions. She saw this task as a means to prove her leadership skills to you, O'Neill. Regain your trust. Instead, her lack of silence only shows that she's deviated away from _your_ code of conduct."

"You see, he gets it . . . wait." Jack's expression snarled somewhat. "My code?"

"That's a fair point." Daniel agreed on purpose.

"Your argument supports it, even if it wasn't the intention to acknowledge your concern."

Jack schooled a dangerous glare and snarled, his and Teal'c's voice thundering all at once.

"What?"

"Daniel Jackson, please respond."

 _Oh, thank goodness._ Daniel thought but then realized he couldn't when his hands collided with the celling.

"How long until the damn effects wear off, Nash?" Jack asked in a foul mood.

"Daniel Jackson, please respond."

The above-mentioned struggled against the beam. Managed a few inches before his hand pulled back.

"Oh, this is utter . . ."

Suddenly it gave way, the men screaming in tandem as they plummeted like a sack of rocks. Jack hit a console, ribs cracking with the impact and slid down to the floor in a painful heap. Whereas Daniel had succeeded in deafening the impact with crossed forearms. Where flesh and bone had collided with the floor, his arms ached as if he'd suffered a break. He moved the limbs to see if that was indeed the case, and felt his left shoulder protest in agony. Moreover, his right wrist was sprained.

Daniel muttered a growl.

Holding the dislocated joint with his other forearm, he announced upset. "Why does it always have to be a shoulder or a leg that gets hurt?"

"Ah, that sure hit the spot." Jack grunted his own unique response to the inflicted damage. Hand huddling over his right side as he rolled unto his back. Upon the shift, he noticed Nesra hovering inches above the floor. Ostensibly, an orange shield had protected him from the release, which faded and he dropped to the ground feet first.

 _How convenient_ , O'Neill thought as he scolded the man. "You lowlife rat . . . that's cheating!"

"Daniel Jackson." The Jaffa's voice boomed over their radios, concern heard in his tone. "We are pinned down and unable to complete our mission. Colonel Carter and I will find a safe way out of the city. You are to do likewise and rendezvous at the 'Gate. Teal'c out."

Jack moved to answer, but several footfalls outside in the corridor halted the action. Next, six soldiers filtered into the room, weapons trained on their separate targets.

"Oh, for crying out loud." He grumbled.

In unison, they stepped aside for their Commander to enter through the door. A tall woman by the name of Yolane stooped down before him. A red strand of hair falling over her hazel eyes. They scoured over his inert form and came to rest on his snarled gaze.

"Take them to the holding cells."

Her hand brushed over his chin and Jack pulled back in disgust. And when a cheeky smile curled her lips, he glared dangerously. She stood from her position, inspecting his companions and walked to the lead guard, hips swaying along the way.

"Keep them separate." She gazed at the General. "I don't want the handsome one defiling their minds with his stubbornness."


	5. Catch 22

**CHAPTER 5** :CATCH-22

 **H.Q.**

When Daniel didn't reply to Teal'c's call, nor General O'Neill a few seconds later, the worst possible thought entered Sam's mind. Something terrible must've happened if the line distorted in static.

She shook the image from her mind. Recoiling as debris bombarded against the settee and scattered stuffing over her head.

A little while ago, she'd calculated the series of the explosions. Found that one specific interval needed to escape before it resumed. Then, upon the break, Teal'c had sped his way towards the stairs leading up to the sixth floor. Leaving her to escape via the archives once the next interval initiated.

It contradicted the previous instruction, but it was the only way through to the back of the building. The only other protection available from the onslaught.

Sam's eyes flitted to the wristwatch on her left hand. Sheppard's deadline was fast approaching, but she wanted Teal'c at a safe distance before she informed the Lt. Colonel of their status. She depressed the talk button and quickly hailed for the warrior.

"SITREP. Over."

"I have yet to reach the sixth floor. The devastation is severe and many have suffered casualties."

There was a pause on the line, sending an unnerving shiver down her spine.

"However, the remainder of the city appears undamaged by the infliction. It confirms that we are indeed the intended targets."

"Affirmative, Teal'c. Hopefully, Daniel and the General's covers are still intact."

"You may be correct, Colonel Carter. All the same, I believe now is the time to inform Colonel Sheppard of the situation. Dr McKay needs assistance, as do we."

"Yes, but I wanted you out of sight, to locate A . . ." Sam froze.

A sudden peculiar silence had settled in the atrium. The bombings had stopped completely, and as she feared, a voice boomed from behind.

"You will surrender and come out with your hands in the air."

She gulped, inwardly cursing herself for the lapse in attention. Next, held down the talk button as she stood to her feet. Hands slowly propped up for all to see, hoping Teal'c overheard.

Half a dozen soldiers stood in a semi-circle, rifles raised in her direction. The lead soldier stepped forward and instructed sternly.

"Relieve her of her weaponry."

Sam scowled in dislike, however stood still as two young men unclipped her vest along with the P-90. Afterward, grabbed the radio from her hand and the Zat from the thigh holster.

The leader smiled in appreciation and walked at a slow pace until he stopped inches away. The scowl deepened as she noticed the scar across his chiseled chin. Dark eyes hid depths of misguided notions, while his muscular body showed signs of failing. Moreover, she estimated him to be at least forty-five.

"Where's the warrior with the golden symbol?" He whispered in her ear, but she refused to reply. Instead gave his soldiers a dirty look.

"I will not repeat myself, woman."

"He's dead." She snapped briskly.

"You think I believe your trickery?"

She tilted her gaze towards him, body mirroring his pompous posture. She gritted her jaw in anger.

"I don't care what you think. He's dead. Get it?"

Laughter rattled in his chest, enjoying the Lt. Colonel's defiance.

"So feisty yet so cold. It matters not; I only need one of you."

The man turned on his heels with hand raised to the left. "Take her away."

His thundering voice jerked down her frame, blues eyes blinking with the command. He motioned to the right. "He's somewhere in the building. Whether dead or alive, find him. Now!"

* * *

 **RAMINIAN CHASM – FIVE MINUTES AGO**

John came to a standstill before the dirt mound, muscles fraught with anger and inserted the radio into his pants pocket. Glanced at his watch to determine when he should make the call, and groaned frustrated.

Lack of response meant one of three things. Firstly, fifteen-minute intervals of radio silence was encouraged in order to avoid detection. Secondly, they were pinned down and incapable of communicating. Thirdly, they were either captured or KIA. And it's not like his and McKay's current location helped confirm either of those options. He kicked at a rock, stared after as it darted up and over the embankment.

As if sensing the Colonel's brooding, Rodney called out. "Remember what I said to you before the mission?"

John sighed feeling the weight of the world on his shoulders.

"Maybe, what's your point, Rodney?"

"I told you this would blow to hell, and it did, quite literally. Even dug my grave for me."

Silence settled fleetingly before the Canadian confessed.

"I'm scared, Sheppard. An-an-and, it's getting harder to breathe in here. It's smothering me."

John winced as Rodney's voice trembled at the end. The fact was. That even if Sam replied eventually, he couldn't leave his friend alone, not when the man sounded like this. Rodney needed motivation, most of all; he needed company to keep his mind off the situation.

John sighed once more. Things had turned into a Catch-22 faster than anticipated.

"I know, McKay. I know. But I can't dig you out on my own. It might be the very thing that kills you."

He stopped suddenly when he remembered a suitable way.

"Do you remember that show with the scientist? Uhm, what was it again?" He paused and then shook his head. "He used everyday stuff to solve problems."

"What does that have to do with my imminent death?"

"Did you watch it or not?" He urged fervently.

The scientist thought for a moment before replying. "I don't know. Maybe. I guess so."

"There's this one episode where he's caught in an avalanche. After determining which way was up, he invented a method of alerting the rescuers to his position."

"How's that useful? There's rocks and dirt and . . ."

"McKay stop being condescending!" John scolded, and then realised it might be something more than arrogance.

"Are you showing signs of oxygen deprivation?"

A long beat occurred. John practically hearing the alarm bells going off in the Canadian's head.

"Oh no."

A slight pause and then the panic erupted.

"Ah shit, I knew it was too good to be true. This is so much worse than that submerged jumper incident. I had a fighting chance there . . . I'm so dead, I'm so dead! I'm gonna die in this hellhole. I'm a dead man talking. A mummy. So young . . ."

"Rodney!" He thundered at the knoll.

"What?" McKay yelled in equal volume.

"You're fine." He amended as he paced about, seemingly mulling. "Can you do the same thing as he did?"

"Like who did?"

John halted, feeling the anger bubbling within, and then scolded in a low tone. "Oh for, I will leave you here if you don't help me get you out of this mess."

"Yes, yes, yes." He stuttered in rapid procession. "Avalanche; find a way to pinpoint my position. Got it."

"Good. Now, what do you have at your disposal?"

Rodney fumbled about in the semi-lit hole, hands combing over his uniform and found the torch in his pants' pocket. Perhaps, it's cylindrical shape could fit through the gap above his head.

"I have my flashlight with me." He declared gleefully.

"Excellent!" John said equally overjoyed. "Does it work still?"

Rodney scowled in the gloom. Why hadn't he thought of that before he bellowed the discovery out loud? He could kick himself for being so shortsighted. Nevertheless, he tried the on button, but it refused to work and he slammed it hard against the ground.

"Worthless piece of junk! Just when I need you, you do this. Can't you just for once in your lifetime help me live? Dammit!"

"Doesn't work, hey?" John surmised.

"No kidding! Why didn't we bring along the stupid gear I suggested?"

"Because we ordered not to."

"What the hell, Sheppard. It's your bloody ego that did this in the first place."

"Hey, now wait just a second, Rodney. We're both in this mess."

"No, _I'm_ in this mess, dammit! Not you! Me!"

"If it's solace you want . . ."

"I told you so!" McKay contested.

"You're being juvenile!"

"I told you so!"

Rodney's voice continued to echo within the chasm, filling its hollowness like ripples in a pond. John turned towards the mound, voice snarling as he released the lingering anger.

"Keep shouting and you'll expend the perfectly good oxygen still left in that pathetic hovel you'll call home for the rest of your life."

Rapid breathing followed the confession. The Lt. Colonel shocked at the declaration's intensity and by the speed that it had spilled from his lips. Guilt consumed his emotions instantly, thoughts gloomy while he fought against the unmerited conduct. His friend didn't deserve it, but he wasn't the only one who was at a standstill.

John gazed at his watch and noted three minutes remained before Colonel Carter's deadline expired.

The 'Gate situated twenty minutes away to the southeast. Since the blast caused a cave in, he'd have to climb out of the chasm, and then sprint for its location and call for reinforcements.

In total, the scientist would have to suck it up for an hour, tops. Which in Rodney's universe signified as weeks, before any digging could begin. Not only that, clean air was a factor, and SG1 was still in silent mode, General O'Neill included. Plus, if things escalated from here on out, Ramin situated thirty minutes to the north. From the Stargate.

John lifted his chin and gazed at the overcast sky. He was feeling the pressure now more than ever. The outburst proved it and he was reluctant to say that McKay had been right all along. They should've stayed in their own galaxy.

 **STARGATE COMMAND – PRIOR TO DEPARTURE**

"Hang on a minute, Rodney." John caught his arm before he exited the locker room.

"What's up?" He raised his eyebrow, keeping an eye on the Lt. Colonel as he watched Teal'c and Daniel disappear around the corner.

"Anything new today Q?" John queried as grabbed the knapsack from McKay's hand. Expression studious as he unfastened the top zipper.

"What? _No_." Came the innocent response.

He gazed at the Canadian, not trusting his answer.

"Mmmm, you do know we have a license to kill."

"So?"

John's hand buried deep into the bag and once he found the desired item, hauled it out. When he saw what it was, he drew him deeper into the room. McKay gazing as if he'd gone crazy, but then his face fell as he held the device before him.

"A life signs detector? Really McKay?"

His shoulders slouched and he withdrew from the man's threatening stance.

"You suck the fun out of everything."

"Colonel Carter already prepared the needed gear for the mission. Which you know damn well will go through with the MALP."

"Well, excuse my skepticism, but I would feel better knowing I had my own gear on hand."

"It's supposed to be a diplomatic mission, McKay. And why do you think General O'Neill demanded we return to Atlantis?"

"He prefers women." Rodney joked. Sheppard scowled unhappy.

He threw his hands up. "How the hell should I know?"

"This." John shoved the device in Rodney's face. "No one in this galaxy knows we exist. Above all, the Trust. He would like to keep it that way, but if you take your crap with . . ."

"Hey, my gadgets aren't crap."

He grabbed it and waved it back at John.

"They've saved your sorry ass more times than I care to count. Besides, if what Sam said in the private meeting is accurate, Ramin's virtually Ancient. We'll need it. Especially this. What if we're trapped or something? You'd be thanking me not scolding me."

"McKay."

A loud sigh echoed as the Lt. Colonel turned his back. Rodney glared knowing what it meant.

"Does Sam and General _what's his name_ , values supersede yours? Just admit it, if this were Atlantis and Elizabeth were in charge, you would state your opinion. Stand by it until she practically imprisoned you for insubordination. But with them, you're like a puppy dog, all sweet and cuddly. _Obedient_." He hissed in disgust. "O'Neill's oblivious to the microscopic detail that SG1's actually using him as a diversion. And that _we're_ the covert part of the mission. The fact that you can't see that's wrong, only proves my point. You're a fanatic my dear friend."

John let the bag fall to the ground. Grabbed the scientist's combat vest and shoved him against the nearest locker. Rodney gripped his wrists, shocked by the action, but then mirrored the Colonel's infuriated countenance. He pushed back, grabbing his combat vest in the process.

Both stood in the center of the room. Each glaring dangerously at one another.

Sheppard whispered in a composed tone. "Even if I have to roll over and let them scratch my belly, I'll do it knowing I helped save earth."

Rodney stared, staggered by the ludicrous statement.

"It's not our duty, Sheppard, it's theirs. We have our own galaxy to think about."

"And if we have nothing to come back to? What then?"

"Get off!" Rodney exclaimed, thrusting him away as if sickened by his presence. "What's the use? Clearly your mind's made up already."

He turned on his heels and kicked at the knapsack on the way over to the exit.

"Rodney." John called after him.

McKay came to a standstill before the doors, oblivious to Jack retreating silently around the corner. He gazed over his shoulder, jaw clenched and expression disappointed. The General, however, peered down the corridor at the figure in the locker room, eager to hear what came next.

"Yes."

"Please, let's do this one by the book, and then we can go back to doing things our own way. Together with Ronin and Teyla."

"Of course we will. It's the norm these days." He said under his breath as he pushed through the doors and disappeared from view.

John kicked at the locker, frustrated by the scientist's intense persistence.

He'd snuffed his complaining in the room earlier, but clearly it hadn't stopped him from retaliating in bitter contempt. No doubt McKay would keep the grudge to himself, and carry out the assignment, professionally, as he did at times.

The truth was. The Canadian had pleaded as a friend as well as a teammate. He just wished that during the mission his decision wouldn't came back to haunt them.

 **PRESENT DAY**

Rodney's eyes flitted to the different fractures lining the roof of his tomb. He felt slighted, again, as if three years of friendship had finally plummeted into a dark abyss.

John knew about his claustrophobia, understood that he wasn't a soldier who could suck it up in a flash. But the thing was, he wasn't the only one in trouble. The Lt. Colonel felt a sense of duty to the others. Their stature, unfortunately, triumphed above all else.

He exhaled a deep sigh, the stuffiness pressing down on his chest. He inhaled a shaky breath. The object in his hand slipped from his grip and plopped down in the dirt. He gazed at its dimly lit form, brow furrowed as he contemplated its usefulness. On its own, the flashlight wasn't enough. What he needed was something that would mount above the debris. Act as a flag of some sorts.

His fingers trembled along the hem of his shirt until he found a torn piece. Ripped the material across his belly and off. Secured it tightly around its base, but then stopped during the search for a suitable gap.

Would the black material be noticeable? Would Sheppard find it amongst rubble that were similar in colour? What else could he do? The questions dampened the attempt, even more so the Lt. Colonel's last words. Who at this very moment was most likely concerned for SG1 and General O'Neill's safety.

Why would John care if he died? He'd be rid of the constant whining. One less straggler to worry about. No doubt, the journey would be quieter with him gone. Besides, the silver shell did the grave part for him – that's another thing ticked off the list.

Admitting defeat, Rodney lowered the contraption and listened to the Lt. Colonel's boots while he paced about. According to the last radio transmission, Sam had one minute left, give or take. If she didn't respond before then, Sheppard would sound the retreat and head for the 'Gate. Leaving him behind to simmer on his own.

A gasp slipped past his lips, moving the dust particles that hovered above his nose. He felt a sneeze coming on, stifled it quickly before focusing on his doom again.

"Yup, that unsung hero crap wasn't as farfetched as predicted."

"Surrender or I will shoot you where you stand!" A voice commanded from the cliff above.

Rodney's muscles stiffened, shocked expression instantly changing into horror.

 _Oh shit! Was it my imagination, or did our stalemate just turn into a checkmate?_

"All right, buddy." He heard Sheppard exhale a nervous snicker and then announce. "I mean you no harm. See? My hands are up in a non-threatening manner."

The scout scowled amused, shifted his stance into a more aggressive one and trained the crossbow on the Lt. Colonel.

"I'm not a fool!"

"Not what I meant."

"Then you will relinquish the weapon strapped to your thigh."

At the mention, Rodney realised he had reattached his own holster after the dive in the well. He also remembered how the stench of the water made him wonder if it was worth dirtying the gear for. Or if he should've left it until his uniform dried.

Rodney reached down and found the gun in its place, half buried. He cursed himself for being so negligent, despite the fact that there'd been no time to assess what he had with him from before the attack. Nonetheless, it was there and Sheppard needed a diversion.

"I'm merely a lonely and lost ol' traveler." John answered. "I need it to protect myself from thieves."

"For what reason are you trying my patience? Am I not a threat to you?"

Something caught John's eye, and at the sight, nearly jumped for joy. To his left, in the mound, the barrel of a Berretta glistened in the sunlight. A sly smile curled his lips, as it was the ideal distraction.

He turned his gaze towards the short man, standing firm on the cliff edge above the knoll.

"Very vigilant, well done." He mocked.

The dark skinned scout schooled a dangerous glare, watching as the Lt. Colonel smirked shrewdly.

"But, as unfortunate as it may be for you, I'd have to decline the offer."

As on cue, three rapid gunshots echoed in the chasm.

The scout sank down to one knee and released the arrow from its string. John dove for cover, ignorant of the triangular device hovering behind him. A shockwave expanded like ripples over the area, and in an instant, incapacitated both men upon impact.

On the cliff, Dario gracefully slid down and leapt forward once he ran out of surface area. Landed on the balls of feet as if the ground were crystal, and with a gentle swagger, walked for the Lt. Colonel.

Off to the side, the weapon glided towards him and fell in with his stride.

Dario went down to his knee beside John, searched for concealed weapons and found a handgun and knife. This he buried in the sling across his shoulder. Retrieved a minute circular device and placed it in his jacket's front pocket. Instantly, it blended with the Lt. Colonel's uniform, masking itself from view.

A wicked sneer laced his dark lips and glinted in his green eyes.

"As you witnessed, John Sheppard, the crossbow merely facilities as the perfect distraction for my trígono. If you were more wary of your surroundings, you would have known of my shadow an hour ago."

The scout stretched to his full height, set his sights on the scattered remains of what was once a cliff face, and called out.

"Rodney McKay."

He listened carefully for a brief moment before chuckling under his breath.

"That's good. It will make retrieving you so much easier."

He paused as the trígono, now on its side, soared from its defensive position and glided towards the rubble.

"Yes, Trigon, it's as if you read my mind. I cannot carry these men on my own and your energy beam will be of great necessity."

Dario rolled the Lt. Colonel unto his back with a stub of his boot and inspected his void features.

"You had no right to trespass upon sacred ground. And now, you will suffer at the hands of Commander Yolane."

He shook his head, pitying the men.

"You are ill-fated indeed. Alas, it is not my business. Once we reach Ramin, there is no doubt Titan will reward me for such a find."


	6. The Man Without a Name

**CHAPTER 6** : THE MAN WITHOUT A NAME

The radio distorted in Teal'c's hand, the sound of rifles finding their target echoing shortly thereafter. Succeeding this, footfalls sounded off like a pounding hammer and then a stern voice instructed.

"Relieve her of her weaponry."

He canted his head to the side, listening attentively as the noise of Sam's vest unclipped along with the P-90. Then the line cut off. Silence filling the small space as if he was in the eye of the storm.

No doubt, they would extend the hunt in search of the one remaining member of the team. It was then pertinent that he avoid discovery at all costs.

First, he had to determine if the corridor outside the utility room was clear. Second would be to avoid detection all the way to the top floor.

His hand extended towards the knob, other hand holding the Zat before the doorframe. Gradually and softly, he twisted it to the right. Peeled back the door and peered down the right side of the passage.

It was empty.

Breathing a sigh of relief, he opened the gap wider. Quickly shoved the weapon down the left of the passage and found it vacant as well. At the end, an elevator glistened in the sunlight, and without further delay, the warrior skulked towards it.

Upon arrival, he called for the carriage and waited.

His mind seethed with thoughts. Flashes of his friends in trouble. Instead, he focused on the sound of the wires hauling the elevator towards it destination. Seconds later, the sound of a bell sounded off and the doors opened. He lunged forward, selecting number sixty on the panel on his turnabout and it slid shut, leaving him alone with his thoughts once more.

 _Did they take Colonel Carter to the holding cells? Were O'Neill and Daniel Jackson with her?_ The questions came in rapid procession, but then another question dawned. _What about Colonel Sheppard and Dr McKay?_

The Jaffa took hold of the radio, finger depressing the button, but the object halted before his lips.

The rest of SG1's radios were in the enemy's possession. Hailing for Sheppard would most likely give away his position. He couldn't risk it. Not now. Not if he was on the verge of accomplishing Colonel Carter's directive.

His eyes flitted to the numbers reeling above the doors. It was on the fiftieth floor. He glimpsed the stop switch, slammed a fist against it and the carriage came to an abrupt standstill. Next, holstered the Zat, inserted the radio back into the right, top vest pocket and closed his eyes.

The pause was the perfect opportunity to do a proper assessment.

O'Neill and Dr Jackson were unreachable. Either captured, incapacitated, indisposed or dead. Colonel Carter was in the hands of the enemy. The Lanteans were unable to assist due to an unforeseen cave in. Leaving him as the sole pursuer of, either the weapon, or the Colonel's target situated on the top floor of this building. Or he was to leave everything and head for the Stargate.

The current location pushed the latter to the recesses of his mind. If he went after the target, finding the weapon would be no problem. The withdrawal from the building set him on edge though. Then there was the matter of the bombardments and the Colonel's sudden capture. Whoever initiated it was in charge of the former. Nothing prevented another bout of needless destruction to subdue him into submission.

Teal'c shook his head; it was against what he stood for as a free Jaffa. He would rather die than be responsible for the death of innocent lives. His eyes opened and lifted his chin. Expression snarled in anger, as he settled on the best course of action. Extended his hand towards the switch, and thrust it up.

The carriage shifted, its momentum feeling as if drawn by a vacuum tube. Next, the fifty-fifth button lit up and he watched how the numbers ascended and halted at its destination.

There was no guarantee that his target presided on the sixtieth floor, so from here on out a proper search was vital. He stepped over the threshold and turned to inspect the additional elevators.

None moved down, which wasn't unusual. If the attack occurred on ground level, it was useless for those on the upper levels to go down in order to escape. They would meet their demise. Which meant, they'd taken refuge in their offices and within whatever else the building supplied as cover.

No, what bothered the warrior was the lone elevator travelling up.

Visualizing the interior of the one he came by, at least six armed soldiers would occupy its size no doubt. Moreover, there was also the possibility of the escalators seized by the assailants in different sections of the building. That fared well to forestall any attempt of evading capture. What worked in his favour though, was the amount of levels he had at his disposal.

Without further ado, the Jaffa sprinted down the oncoming corridor, and minutes later, emerged into what appeared as an administrative section of the level. Sunlight basked the space from the western flank in crystal light.

Next, he glimpsed the heads of scared clerks peeking from beneath their desks. Perhaps wondering whether they should trust the stranger or hide away from a possible onslaught. He waved them off, beckoning to stay calm and hidden, when a bullet ripped past his extended arm.

Teal'c stooped and veered left, away from the oncoming blanket of slugs.

A door labeled with the image of an emergency stairway, filtered into view. He burst through it, feet instantly hitting the flight of stairs.

Tension rose throughout his frame, anxiety following in its wake, but he channeled it towards the assignment. In addition, the Tritonium aided the effort, as it nourished muscles and tendons. Along with it, a new drive for success initiated, and the warrior leapt for the next set of stairs.

Below, the door banged against the wall, heavy footfalls slapping against iron as they trudged after him. Teal'c grabbed the Zat. Halted beside the door. Zapped the lead soldier's hand on the rail.

It's blue electrical current traversed its way down his form and shouts of pain resonated in response.

A sly grin slivered over his lips, as he opened the door to an assembly area packed with vacant booths. When suddenly, two soldiers sprawled over his back. Fighting for dominance and took him down like jackals their prey.

He shook free from the one, managing to stun him in the process. Whereas his comrade wrestled it free from his grip, sliding away from their reach. Teal'c retaliated with his elbow. Thrusting it deep against the man's stomach and nudged it up, knocking the man against the jaw.

He reacted with weak jabs, like a boxer fighting the air, whilst gasping for breath. But the man's effort concluded with a fierce blow to his temple.

Clutching after the Zat and the soldier's discarded rifle, the Jaffa darted across the empty room. Headed straight for the escalator, which led up and crossed over to the fifty-eighth floor, and jumped for the stair gliding past. It felt like he was floating, leg muscles relishing the respite, until abrasive shouts echoed from down below.

To the right, soldiers in red uniforms scattered within a gallery ten tiers below. But one particular individual caught his attention. She'd positioned her rifle on the transparent balustrade and was preparing to fire on his location. The warrior lunged forward with large strides, desperate to escape the impending attack. He barely found cover behind a wall as a string of bullets shattered the crystal, which encased the gliding stairs.

Out of firing range, he took a sharp right turn and ran past several barred rooms, when the door at the end of the passage unlocked.

Teal'c kept going. Rifle in position, ready to fire. Then halted abruptly as an elderly woman glanced around the doorframe. He jogged towards her, gave the office a quick once over before acknowledging her with a curtsy.

"Stay inside." He ordered respectively.

She bobbed her head in accord, body trembling with concern.

Speaking in a calm tone, he grabbed for the handle, "Remain here until you are instructed otherwise." She nodded in lieu of a verbal reply, amber eyes watching as the door clicked shut.

In the passage, Teal'c advanced towards the emergency stairway located three rooms down. Forestalled at the door, listening for running footsteps, and then entered, darting for the opening between the rising steps. It was absent of pursuers.

A calm settled over his body, but the lingering sensation of a hunted mouse still clung to his emotions. Slighting it, he quickly bounded up the staircase for the top floor.

Ten minutes later, the door to the conference room burst open. A winded Jaffa raising the Zat in defense as he entered.

"P-p-please, I am unarmed." The aide pleaded from across the room, trembling involuntarily. The dark skinned man shut the door behind him and turned to face him.

"Are you the governor's aide?"

He nodded in lieu of a verbal reply, head shaking as if he'd stuttered.

Teal'c's eyebrow raised in question. "Friend of Nesra?"

"Y-y-yes, I am."

His posture relaxed, Zat lowering to the floor as he advanced towards the gaunt young man.

"Do not be afraid. I am here to protect you."

"Y-y-you are?" He queried incredulous, eyeing the golden symbol on the stranger's forehead.

"Indeed."

Teal'c gestured at his propped arms and he lowered it, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Friend of Bonnie and Clyde?" He asked.

A wryness ghosted the warrior's expression enjoying Mitchell's selection of names. Dipped his head and replied.

"Yes, indeed I am."

"Thank goodness." He exclaimed relieved, body relaxing as he sat down on the nearest chair. Then suddenly realised that something was amiss.

"You are alone." He proclaimed eyes magnified in shock. "Nesra assured there would be more of you. This does not bode well. We will be killed for sure."

"Calm down, Asha." Teal'c commanded. "All is not lost. The plan can still work if we evade capture and escape into the city. The buildings will provide the necessary cover. Once out of reach, we can devise a suitable strategy."

"And if we do as you proclaim? What can two people achieve against an armada? With your friends in enemy hands, there is no stopping the Governor from awakening the Predominant. There will be nowhere left to hide."

Several footfalls echoed in the waiting room outside. The Jaffa raised a hand in silence and stepped towards the aide. Next, gestured at the floor.

"Get down beneath the table and stay hidden."

Asha nodded his confirmation and did as instructed, while Teal'c moved for the right-hand side of the double door. Poised his Zat and awaited a possible entry.

Dull thuds resonated, indicating that they were searching through the adjoining office. Crashing of chairs followed next. Stacks of folders hitting the floor as filing cabinets screeched. Then it quietened down, the small group stacking up on the other side. Teal'c inhaled a deep breath, positioned his body flush with the door. Eyes focused on the handle as it moved down, slowly and opened.

Anticipation bubbled within, but the warrior contained it with ease and stayed resolute as the barrel of a rifle snuck past. A forearm appeared and then the lead soldier rushed through followed by two other quick on his heels.

Teal'c struck then, firing off the Zat in rapid procession. The men toppled like bowling pins, down for the count in an instant.

From underneath the table, Asha stared in surprise, heart hammering relentlessly. He swallowed. Eyes trailing the boots of the Jaffa, as he discarded their weaponry to the back of the room. Then, halted tersely before jogging back to the door and snapped it shut upon arrival.

Apparently, another wave was on the approach.

Asha recoiled, making his form as small as possible. He hadn't agreed to this when Nesra asked for assistance. Sure, the rebellion was the only way to overrule their current tyrant. But he'd never thought his friend would go as far as to invite complete strangers to join the rivalry.

He'd merely forced him to make a decision. Now he was huddled underneath a table, with a Jaffa as his guard. He swallowed the knot in his throat.

Ramin fought valiantly against his kind, the Predominant repelling wave after wave of gliders. When finally, it succeeded in wiping an entire Goa'uld fleet from the sky. After the victory, a few system lords returned only to face the same fate. They'd left the planet alone after their failed attempts.

Many centuries went by in peace permitting the city to strengthen in numbers and technology. However, with each passing decade, the rulers darkened. And with every newly elected governor, a rebellion arose only to face the supremacy of the Predominant.

Innocent civilians suffered a brutal massacre at the hands of the elect, merely to send a message to the remainder of the population. Rebel and die. Or submit and live according to what the governing party dictated.

All it did was clench the hunger for power, which slowly festered the good retained within his people.

Two decades ago, on the day Titan stepped into power, another enemy, hungry for advanced technology, reached the outskirts of the city. Nevertheless, the newly created argent chelónas, mimicking the Predominant in every way, shattered the metal bug creatures into nothing but dust.

It was the beginning of a new era for Governor Titan and his beloved Yolane. They'd achieved a success greater than those before them. And continued with the winning streak even after the Ori Priors set foot in the Milky Way.

A hand grabbed at his arm, breaking the reverie and he squirmed against the pull, until he realised who it was that held his arm. He stopped thrashing and gazed over the bodies that joined the others from earlier. Noticed the bootlaces bound around their hands and feet, and caught eye of the warrior as he moved on by.

A bullet had shattered the window overlooking the city, which he now used like a trash shoot, hurling their weaponry through the opening.

"We are to leave immediately." Teal'c growled. "While we have the advantage."

"Uh, excuse my nerves, but Commander Yolane's men won't permit us to leave without subjugation. I simply don't . . ."

Asha swallowed the sentence as the Jaffa raised an eyebrow in warning.

"Forgive me, what was I doing thinking ill of my rescuer. Obviously, you are more than capable . . ."

"Enough, Asha. Come." He shoved him toward the door, the aide nodding with the curt shove.

"Of course, into the mouth of the lion we go." Asha muttered under his breath.

The sentence reminded him of Nesra's same behavior a week ago. He too had felt the identical dread. Had faced a similar crossroad. And now the fate of Ramin rested upon the shoulders of those lured by false attentions. All but one still free to move about.

Asha half-walked half ran after his guardian and fell in with his stride. Shoulders slouched; he focused on the warrior's movement, which displayed determination as well as vigilance. This was no joking matter. It was real life. Today, the enemy would conquer, or a handful of foreigners would overthrow a tainted government.

Hopefully, the Jaffa wasn't leading him to his death.

Then abrasive shouts resonated from the elevators, and he renounced the declaration as swiftly as it had occurred. In this moment and time, he would die for sure, taking the location of the weapon to the grave with him. He had to let Teal'c know, and quickly too.


	7. SNAFU (part 1)

**CHAPTER 7** : SITUATION NORMAL: ALL FOULED UP (PART 1)

 **DEFENSE FACILITY: PRESENT DAY**

Lt. Colonel Sheppard tripped over a stray pebble. Felt his balance move forward at an abrupt pace, and then his knees buckled beneath his weight. Aiming for the pillar to the right, he broke the fall with his shoulder and slid down to the floor in a kneeling position. Holding on to the support for dear life.

He cursed the lethargic sensation gripping his body.

Whatever the intruder had used in the chasm, it still crawled through his system like a slug. It had weakened him so much so, that resistance was just as hard as fighting a Wraith stunner.

Nevertheless, the Colonel within was stronger than this.

John leaned his forehead against the concrete column. Closed his eyes and dug down deep. One knee crawled along the pillar until his boot was flush with the floor. Growled as he pushed off, and then breathed a sigh of relief when he stood entirely on his feet. He still held onto the pillar in a hug, using it as a brief recess. Opened his eyes and lifted his chin to gaze about the area.

Overhead, the ceiling curved like a barn's top. Whilst titanium pipes gored three broad, stone slabs that spanned the length of the prison facility. Retained in this section, situated three tiers of concrete blocks, which mirrored the size and shape of cargo containers. Yet, instead of doors, shimmering blue energy fields, parallel to an event horizon, fenced its occupants.

From behind, the female guard urged him on with a coarse thrust for the umpteenth time. He had a funny notion she relished her duty a tad too much. Regardless, he obeyed and walked on.

His legs and arms quivered like jelly. Whereas his head felt like he had the weight of a freight train on his mind. He smirked at the examination, glad a doctor's degree never piqued his interest. Then his gazed locked with McKay's marionette form, and the smirk disappeared like footprints in the sand.

Ahead, they entered section C to a horrifying scream.

Sheppard winced and focused on the décor, and noticed a familiar face occupying the cell to his right. Two friendlies to be precise, as his superior's prostrate body appeared beside the Lt Colonel.

A fierce anger burned in his chest fuelling his need to act. But, she warned him to move on, follow the protocol initiated before the mission.

Every pair were to hold out until the Daedalus did a layover two days from now. Unless, by some miracle, someone in the team had avoided capture. Then reinforcements would save their collective asses from whatever awaited them in this dungeon.

A knot formed in his stomach.

Perhaps their sentencing led towards a more lenient path. He swallowed down the bitter taste in his mouth. On the other hand, they probably favoured earth's mediaeval beliefs. Torture by crude weaponry. The scream was convincing enough. Likewise, that silver shell sure looked as if it came from the era.

A shiver snaked its way down his spine. Hands dampening with the prospect. He had gained enough experience in the Pegasus to know what he'd seen. Settlements masked in technological goodness, they hid their true nature like these darn turtle shells. Crude but effective. They were grenades hidden within a crusader's helmet. Hurt almost as much as having the life sucked from one's veins.

The shiver returned in full vigour. Sweat now beading his forehead.

"Move."

The woman cuffed his shoulder with what felt like a baton. But when the electrical current zipped its way through his form, he withdrew the speculation. The warning in Sam's blue eyes had displayed what would happen if he rebelled. Though obey like a sheep he just couldn't do. No, he would put up a fight 'till the end. It was part of his DNA after all.

John leaned against the wall, shaking off the effects of the baton. Moved ahead with a large, swift stride avoiding the oncoming blow as she goaded him along. Nor did he miss that wicked grin ghosting the corner of her lips.

No doubt, she wanted him to suffer. Enjoy the pain pierce his military veneer. He gave her a lopsided, cheeky smile in return, observing her irritation reach a level higher.

"Sheppard."

His head jolted in the voice's direction, to the left, and sighted Daniel cradling his left arm. An agonizing grimace creased his expression.

John marked the stranger glance over the archaeologist's shoulder. Most likely the one who had caused the scream earlier. He didn't blame him though. A dislocated shoulder hurt like a son of a gun. Next, he noted a forefinger before the man's lips and frowned.

Was it an attempt to keep Dr Jackson from calling after him? Or was silence golden in this part of the prison. Either way, the Lt. Colonel took it as a warning. Copied Sam's behaviour and gazed ahead at Rodney. Today, in this moment, regrettably, the physicist was his only concern.

Daniel understood, nodded his confirmation, and stared after them as they moved down the corridor.

* * *

 **FIVE MINUTES AGO**

"Help me, please."

Nesra turned his gaze from the translucent barrier to the archaeologist.

"I'm not a physician."

"What do you think _doctor_ stands for?" Daniel joked.

When the researcher scowled bewildered, he beckoned him closer. Nesra hesitated, shaking his head in negation, as if he was the one who'd suffered the injury.

 _The man had had a personal defense shield for goodness sake._ Jackson exclaimed to himself and then commanded in a fierce tone. "You get over here, and you help me set this shoulder."

The researcher crawled from his seated position over to where Daniel sat against the wall. Knelt beside the arm in question and awaited further instruction.

This time round, he frowned in confusion and Nesra clarified with a humorous smirk.

"I'm not kneeling, if that is what you are wondering. I truly do not know what I must do."

Daniel stared deadpan. How could a researcher not know something that was part of everyday events? He did. Felt it. Experienced it. In his line of work, it was the understatement of the year. He held back an amusing smile, for courtesy's sake, and instructed, before the man fainted from angst.

"You can start by swopping sides and then help me onto my back."

"Then that is what I shall do."

Daniel leaned towards the right, Nesra guiding him slowly to the ground. He positioned the arm at a ninety-degree angle, groaning as it protested with sharp, numb-like pain.

"Grab my wrist, or hand, whichever way works for you, firmly." He instructed quickly, seeking release like a thirsty traveler in need of water.

The researcher obeyed. Came about. Knelt beside him and grabbed his hand in a strong vice grip. Daniel placed his right hand on his forehead. Winced as the sprained wrist stung and closed his eyes. Mentally preparing himself for the next couple of seconds.

"That's good." He commended. "Now it's a slow and steady pull, without fast or jerky movements, directly away from my body until the shoulder re-articulates. You'll hear a _clunk_ sound when it slips into place. Understand?"

His chin bobbed in accord, but the idea of hurting someone in this manner recoiled through his frame. Then quickly revealed on his face.

"Nesra?" Daniel urged annoyed. "This isn't the time to be sympathetic. Or squeamish."

"Yes-yes, yes. I understand. Will it not cause . . ."

"At this moment, you are _the cause_ if you don't pull. Now!" Daniel growled.

The man's countenance knotted, shaking his head as he visualized the limb unattached in his grip.

"Pull, dam . . ."

A loud yell superseded the command, Nesra falling back onto his rump in shock. Then his brown eyes narrowed as the archaeologist's body racked with laugher. Apparently, relief from the agony never felt so good, so refreshing.

Daniel opened his eyes, sat upright and relocated to stand. Then hissed in pain when his right wrist protested. Nesra moved promptly, grabbing his elbow and assisted him to his feet.

A cheerful smile curled Daniel's lips. It hurt, yes, the area was raw, but it was less intense than before the ordeal.

"Not so bad, hey? Thank you."

"How . . ." Nesra faltered as the archaeologist walked for the energy field, lost in a trance.

Guards strolled on by, followed by another carrying a man unfamiliar to him. However, judging by his clothes, he certainly associated with SG1.

He tugged at his jacket, beckoning him to stay away, but Daniel scowled at the action reluctant to submit. His hand gripped tighter, eyes exhibiting caution, and placed a forefinger before his lips to signal he should avoid attention. The man pulled free from his grasp, calling after Sheppard whose head jerked in their direction.

Sudden concern triggered, especially when he saw the Canadian's state. The worry increased, then revealed on his face. They were the backup plan, the rescue team. The spies no one knew about. If they were here, like Jack and he was, only Sam and Teal'c remained. But considering the attack on the plaza, there was a slim chance they'd avoided capture.

Daniel barely noticed the Lt. Colonel shake his head as denial, mirroring Nesra's earlier performance. Observed how he gazed ahead at Rodney's sagging form. He understood all too well. Survival was key, and in this instance, the Lt Colonel's focus would stay on his teammate. For the moment.

He nodded in accord and stared after them as they disappeared from view. Afterward, glanced over his shoulder at Nesra.

"I need to get out of my jacket."

"Do you think it wise? With the shoulder and wrist."

Daniel stared at him as if he'd gone mad and sighed irritated. Where was Sam or Teal'c when he needed them? He even missed Jack's sarcasm and support. At least, the General knew more than he let on, not like this man who was clearly lost in translation.

"You're not serious?"

Nesra gazed with a confused expression.

"Ha, and you call yourself a researcher."

"I may be termed as one, but there are numerous genres and occupations in regards to the rank. For instance, the one you are looking for presides in the medical facility. I merely research Ramin's history."

"No kidding." Daniel mocked

"No, I believe it is indeed a profession."

"It was a sarcastic reply."

"I do not understand."

"Of course you don't."

Daniel spun on his heels, winced slightly as the shoulder protested and explained in a frustrated tone.

"You can blame the cultural difference. Moreover the variation in centuries and planets for the misunderstanding. The distance between them, now that's a real communication glitch."

He moved forward now, annoyed. Angry with how things had turned out. Sad that this could be the end for SG1. Terrified for the other planets out there. The Ori proved too powerful, too convincing. It wouldn't be long until the Milky Way fell to its knees in surrender.

The researcher backed away with each stride he progressed and knocked against the wall. Daniel stopped, eyes glimmering with irritation.

"I'm an archaeologist." He snarled. "Expert on all things civilizations, languages and cultures. You'd think I would be used to it by now. But every time I play the, 'we are peaceful explorers, we mean you no harm' role, it never works. Every so often, they turn nasty. The diplomatic performance goes haywire, and we run, for our lives, covering our collective assets. Just for once, could we not be in a situation where it's either prison or imminent death? Is it too much to ask for some peace in return?"

"Now that I do understand, Dr Jackson." Nesra replied with a curt nod.

Daniel stared at him briefly before copying the same nod. "Good, I thought I was the only one." He turned his back to him. "Now help me out of this jacket. I need a sling to support the arm."

* * *

Up ahead, the guards lugging Rodney disappeared around the corner. Sheppard heard the well-known distortion of an energy field. Increased his speed, arriving in time to watch his friend fall to the ground. The dull thud of flesh slivered through his skin and he stood immobile for a few seconds. When unexpectedly, in the corner of his eye, a black object lunged for his head.

John turned, blocking it midair. "No need for that." He warned in a gentle manner.

Her expression snarled in anger, struggling to rip the baton from his grip. Clearly, she detested the action. He chuckled softly, let go and backed away with arms propped above his head.

"See." A wayward grin curled his lips. "I have no problem walking on my own."

His hands fell to his sides as the energy field slid into place.

The guards departed one by one, except for his herder whose façade portrayed a definite hatred. On the other hand, maybe his sparkling personality had set her on edge.

He strolled forward, hands in his pockets while the wayward grin widened on his face.

"The prodding is so . . . _barbaric_. Rough childhood?"

"It comes from chasing foxes like you." She spat.

"Whoa, hang on just a sec." He raised his hands, then lowered one and gestured at Rodney with the other.

"We plead the fifth here, lady. I'm no thief nor I am a murder. Like I told your friend, we travel for a living. Where's the harm in that?"

She scowled skeptically. "Please, you can stop with your deception. I'm no fool."

"Never said you were." He crooned.

"Those you tried to ignore in the chambers. Share the same clothing. The same weapons. Same pretention."

John shrugged feigning innocence. "Folks who shared the same gateway, coincidentally. I don't know. You'll punish us for their intrusion?"

"More lies." The guard accused swiftly. "It's like dirty rags to Ramin, who did well to retaliate during the fact. The attack on the square confirms your trickery."

"Hmm, explains the lack of response." He muttered under his breath.

Her brow furrowed in confusion, wondering what he'd meant.

"So, we've come to rob you?" He queried with a snicker. "Of what exactly?"

Her posture straightened, discerning his motive and Sheppard's cheeky countenance fell with the action. The baiting had gone so well, his words like honey to her zealous personality.

"You're goading me." She stepped back as if stung by her own bluntness.

John knowing he'd lost ground, contradicted in an repentant manner.

"I thought we were having a friendly conversation, Ms?" His eyebrow quirked, face opening up in a charming smile.

"That's enough! You will pay for your crimes like the jackals you are." Clarice hissed. Anger plain in her posture as she stalked away.

He turned on his heels and gazed down at Rodney who was still in a comatose state.

"What does prison and insults have in common?" John asked as he kneeled beside his friend, turned him over onto his back and checked his pulse.

The beat was slow, luckily not slow enough to cause a panic. His eyes scanned over the inert form and rested upon the man's legs. So maybe there was cause for alarm. Rodney's condition was worse off than the General's was.

"Yeah, that's right, egotistical, devoted guards." He answered with a bleak expression. "And who gets a taste of the spitefulness?"

The Lt. Colonel unclipped his belt and pulled it free from the loops holding it in place. Lifted Rodney's right knee. Threaded its tail end beneath it, positioning the belt above the wound. Proceeded to wrap it around, tight as it allowed, before tying a knot. It would stem the bleeding for a while.

"Those falsely accused, that's who."

Sheppard pulled off his jacket, positioned it as a pillow beneath the physicist's head, and gazed at the remaining lacerations. A large crevice ran down the lower part of his left leg and bled feebly, whereas those less severe had cauterized on their own.

Overall, if they didn't leave before sunrise, he would return home alone.

"Now the ones who are injured." He exhaled a heavy sigh. "They get the brunt of that mockery."

John ripped a piece of material from his slacks, and got to work on bandaging the wound. Mood remorseful as he did so.


	8. SNAFU (part 2)

**CHAPTER 8** : SITUATION NORMAL: ALL FOULED UP (PART 2)

 **TEN MINUTES AGO**

The lead guard shoved her forward. Sam jerking away from his hand as she stumbled across the room and collided with the opposing wall. Annoyed, she turned to face him, only to witness the glimmer of an energy shield.

She cursed under her breath, kicking at the wall in frustration.

Plan A had failed, miserably. When she was so sure, it would endure to the end. Even the selection of team members guaranteed its success. Their unique coupling was meticulous, matching each according to their strengths and weaknesses.

It should've worked. Period.

She kicked at the wall again, palms slamming with the action in high-pitched thunderclaps. Then she froze midway, as if she had seen a ghost. Dread followed, mirroring a torrent as it seeped through her frustration.

"I take it things didn't go according to plan." Jack coughed once, twice before concluding in a breathless groan. ". . . there's always plan C."

She caught sight of the familiar form stashed in the corner. He was on his back, one knee propped up, while his hand protected his right side. The day just plummeted into a gorge, and she was desperate for its darkness to conceal the guilt, which encased her mind.

In a flash, the urge to sprint for the General tugged at her instincts. The need to console him, fervent. It was so natural – to be in service, to help where needed, and yet in the moment, disgrace cemented her to the spot. Prevented her to stand by his side, support him the best way she could.

Sam closed her eyes and leaned her forehead against the concrete. Its cool temperature awoke gooseflesh on her skin and she flinched somewhat.

Jack sensed the unease almost immediately and hid it with a long lost joke.

"Yeah, I know, has that familiar charm to it. Yet with a little decorating, I think it would make for a killer living room."

Sam didn't know whether to laugh, cry or shout at his attempt at calming the situation. Rather, turned her back to him to conceal the regret etched on her expression. Jack frowned at the behavior. Noted the tension forming along her jawline. Flitted his eyes to her slouched shoulders and gazed at the ceiling. Closed his eyes.

Her mind raced at a relentless pace, knocking against speed bumps of anger, no doubt. It was to be expected. He'd seen those bombings tear the square and atrium apart, and it was a wonder she'd survived unscathed. No, what bothered him was the way she handled his injured state. Like leprosy covered him from head to toe, when years prior, medical attention had been top priority. A mandatory duty expected from combat medics.

In addition to this, was how the team had worked in the blind. None knew who had faced capture, were injured or if anyone had suffered loss of life. It was no use in delaying the inevitable any longer. The mission spelled snafu in capital letters from beginning to end.

They had lied. Lured him with false pretentions and he'd walked through the 'Gate ignorant of their objective. Moreover, what could've been a manageable situation, arrogance, stubbornness and negligence had ruined it.

The fact of the matter was, in this moment, he sought after compassion, her reassurance. Anything to divert attention away from the predicament. To keep him from applying more pressure on her, and fuel her guilt. He needed her focused and clearheaded for the time ahead.

The Lt Colonel approached and knelt beside him without saying a word. Jack hissed as she grabbed his hand and moved it from the bruised area.

"No splint needed." He offered, one eyelid open to glimpse the smile cross her lips. He closed it again, smirking.

Sam lifted the hem of his shirt and examined his ribs.

"How long have you been here for, Sir?" She inquired avoiding his creased facial expression.

"Thirty minutes, give or take."

"How did you . . ."

"Fell from nineteen feet. Sucha shame the console got in the way, or else it would've been smooth sailing." He smiled wryly as he imagined how her brow furrowed in confusion. "That would be from the ceiling, Carter. If that's what you're wondering."

"Oh. Thank you, Sir"

She shrugged out of her jacket. Next, squeezed it into a bundle and placed it just below Jack's chest. He scowled at the action.

She explained with voice even and dispassionate.

"It is common that rib fractures occur mostly in the middle of the chest area. Yet, by the position of the discoloration, I'd say that is not the case. The jacket will dint the pain a little. Unfortunately, I can't . . ."

"Yeah, yeah, wrapping it will cause more harm than good."

"And since we don't have our gear with us, painkillers are out of the question. Which means, in order to relieve the pain and swelling. The cool temperature generated by the floor would have to make up for both it, and the lack of a decent icepack."

"Get to the good part will ya?" He murmured impatiently.

Sam glared with a neutral expression.

"To prevent infection or a lung collapsing, breathing every hour, two at the most, is required."

"Thank you, Doctor Carter." Jack mocked. "I'll take that under advisement."

"Come." Sam whispered, ignoring the deliberate jab, and urged him into a sitting position. He obeyed with a great deal of agony and allowed her to pull off his jacket.

Spine flush with the floor again, her hand slid beneath his head, lifted it with a gentle boost, and placed it at the nape of his neck. Satisfied, her eyebrow raised in question.

"Anything else I should know about, Sir?"

Jack's eyes opened. The dislike for her insolence like raging fire, when a terrifying scream pierced the air.

"What the hell? That's Daniel." He croaked.

Outside their cell, two guards filed by with another two carrying Rodney between them. Thick, dark dust covered his form from head-to-toe, whereas blood trailed behind his lagging boots. Stunned, Sam stood to her feet and walked forward, all the while keeping an eye on the physicist.

Lt. Colonel Sheppard was next in line.

Similar to McKay, soot covered his uniform in a black cloak, and blood trickled from various lacerations caused by the cave in. John dipped his chin in acknowledgment, eyes lingering on the General and scowled puzzled. He slowed down to protest, but Sam shook her head. Eyes relaying he had to go before he lured unwanted attention from the guard at the rear.

John nodded, face creased in resentment, and moved forward.

Sam dipped her chin, eyes on her boots as she bit her bottom lip in concern. Next, turned towards her superior. He beckoned her over and she adhered, coming to a standstill beside him with tears slithering down her cheeks. Her expression revealing regret and humiliation.

Jack's countenance softened instantly, heart aching on her behalf. However thankful for the concern, she avoided it and knelt down. Extended her hand towards where he held her jacket tightly.

"Please tell me that's not all of us." He asked in a whisper and when Sam shook her head lightly as reply, he exhaled a relieved sigh.

Of course, only one person could've eluded arrest for this long, and thankfully, he was alive and well. Teal'c would work out a plan to rescue them from this hellhole. Surely, he would call in the cavalry. Still, it didn't explain the Lt. Colonel's tears.

Jack opened his mouth to speak, but she placed a finger to her lips. He scowled, eyes viewing how the same finger moved to her ear. She tapped it twice before rotating her finger in an anticlockwise position, signaling that they were under surveillance.

 _How do you know that? How could you? Do the rest know?_

The internal questions revealed on his countenance, almost begging her to reply. But Sam's eyes displayed the truth. Her face likewise. Going even further as to mimic that all too familiar Antarctic fiasco almost a decade ago. Where then and now, they were stuck and injured with little to no foresight on what came next. With any luck, Teal'c did. For all their sakes, he really hoped he did.


	9. Come to Light

**CHAPTER 9** : COME TO LIGHT

 **RAMIN H.Q.**

Asha's surroundings blurred as the Jaffa shoved him into the corner. A command slipped through the grime, instructing him to stay put and he nodded in accord. Nearby, office furniture splintered, while the sound of bullets echoed in procession.

Chaos, it was pure chaos, and there was nothing he could do about it. He wasn't built for this; certainly not trained to handle this kind of attack. Frankly, no one in the building had the training or means to retaliate.

Over the years, when an individual had left the headquarters with a police escort, they'd kept their heads down, and minded their own business. To them, it was the wisest, simplest and only action available. 'Cause in doing so, they saved not only their families, but also their sector of apartment blocks from the chelónas.

The population had termed them as the silver attack force. Whereas the governor had called it cleansing Ramin from all things defiant. It instilled the necessary fear to keep the public in check, while the swift purge of said cleanse snubbed all hope of striking back. It had stripped them of voice, of truth and of justification. Simply because there was nothing they could use to prove his unethical treatment of this fair city.

"Asha." Teal'c called as he pulled him the hiding place. "We need to go before our location is identified."

The aide scrambled after the warrior, eyes purposefully avoiding the wreckage and bounded down the stairs. The slapping of their shoes echoed in his ears. Teal'c's haste evident, as they descended to the thirtieth floor, and entered the legal sector.

Papers laid scattered over the floor mimicking that of a square after a protest. Everyone had left in a hurry, in a panic without realising that this was the safest place to hide.

Teal'c stopped. Opened the door of a small printing room and shoved the aide forward. He collapsed against a stack of shredded papers. Discharging them into the air like a confetti bomb and fell to his rump shocked. Next, anxiously struggled to assemble the bits and pieces into a pile, while the Jaffa closed the door behind them.

Asha gave up, instead picked at the pieces stuck to his clothes and then stopped altogether. The room fell silent, as the guardian listened attentively for pounding footfalls. Long minutes that fed his already numb emotions. He could feel the suspense rising in his chest, waiting to erupt.

This was it, the time to let Teal'c in on the secret before he suffered sudden death.

"I-I-I." The wind fell from his sails. The confession fading to the background as the warrior glanced at his watch.

"This is long enough." He gazed at Asha. "We must go before they re-establish their defenses."

Teal'c grabbed for the doorknob, while extending his hand towards the aide. He shook his head, backing away instead like a crab and bumped against the wall. A panic settled across his features as he gazed at the warrior.

"W-w-we can't go before I give you the information."

"I understand, Asha. However, every second that goes to waste, will allow your forces time to seal off all remaining exits. My pursuit would have been for naught."

"Believe me, there is no one better than me who understands the urgency. I sacrificed everything to be here and will follow through on Nesra's instruction."

"Then you should know that I will do anything in my power to aid my teammates."

Teal'c grabbed his bicep, hauling him from where he sat on the floor. Moved to open the door, but he pulled free addressing him with the same urgency as before.

"It does not matter where we go. Titan knows of your plan, and will stop at nothing to seize you. His forces will destroy everything in our wake. Do you want those innocent deaths on your hands?"

The question gave the Jaffa pause, his eyebrow raising with the new information.

"It is imperative that I inform you of the governor's strategy during this momentary calm. In addition, Nesra's plan, and the coordinates I have in my possession. Otherwise, no one, not even the rebellion, will find the Predominant."

Silence hung in the air, an intense atmosphere descending like thick smoke on the room. He sensed the necessity. Perceived the anxiety in the young man's eyes. Even Nesra's behaviour when they'd met for the first time, confirmed his pleading.

"Very well." Teal'c conceded.

Asha stood amazed. The warrior had yielded, surrendered to him as if he were a sovereign. He adjusted his cobalt waistcoat, clearing his throat as he did so, and replied.

"Very well."

 **SEVEN DAYS PRIOR**

"This is all of them." Titan scattered the prints before him.

Yolane tucked the stray red tuft behind her ear. Leaned over his shoulder and fingered the image of a man with salt and pepper hair.

"These people intend to take our weapon?" She inquired eyes sparkling with wonder, setting it down upon an image of a woman with blue eyes.

He gestured at it. "That is General Jack O'Neill. And yes, they're in a tight bind and our silver weapon can help with their . . ."

Her posture straightened, attention now fully on her leader. He could see the disapproval slink across her expression and concluded the sentence before she spoke.

"As we led their spies to believe." She relaxed, a sly grin curling her lips. Titan mirrored the sneer.

"Are you confident they have enough information to lure the rest?" Her hazel eyes skimmed Jack's photo. "With him in tow?"

"According to the messenger, what we have in our possession will be enough to draw the General. So yes, it's a certainty."

"Good. He'll be . . ."

"Behave Yolane." Titan warned sternly. "He's off-limits." He stood from the chair and gazed at her. She finished the sentence nonetheless, doing well to irritate the man. ". . . A strong soldier for my armada."

Titan scooped up the images, tucked them away in the folder and turned to face her. A seductive smile lined her lips. A slight craftiness glinting in her eyes.

"O'Neill's no longer a foot soldier, hasn't been for the last two annos. The only thing that works in his favour these days is the reputation he once held as a Colonel."

She moved to protest, hand extended towards his face, but he intercepted it with a brisk reply. "No, Yolane. And that's final."

Unfazed, she stroked his cheek, fingers trailing the scar that snaked across his chin. Gazing into his dark eyes, she whispered softly. "I find your jealousy needless dear."

"The same can be said of your desire for strength. _Authority_."

Titan captured her hand, pulled it towards his lips and gave it a chaste kiss. His eyes narrowed as if to examine her beauty and noted the desire etching her facial features.

"Not to mention your strong hunger for submission." He kissed her knuckles again, straightened in posture and gazed into her hazel eyes. "That is why you married me after all."

Both stayed immobile, evaluating each other's unspoken responses, when someone knocked on the conference room's door. Titan breathed out a weary sigh. Yolane anticipated the action, followed it with a kiss on his forehead, chin, and then whispered in his ear.

"I want him."

"We need him." He returned under his breath.

She gazed at her husband; brow furrowed, and moved to initiate another kiss, thinking it would help him elaborate on the statement. He halted the attempt with a forefinger to her lips, shook his head and stepped away. Disappointed, she walked for the window to the left, glancing over her shoulder as she did so. Observed in detail as he composed himself.

"Enter." Titan called out, authoritative veneer slipping into place. Yolane mirrored the same appearance and together they stood as Governor and Commander of Ramin.

The door slid open and in came a flying object, Dario close behind.

"Did you know your trígono was once a hunting bird in ancient times?" Titan queried, while beckoning the scout over to the head of the table.

The man dipped his head in accord and instead moved for a chair close by.

"Yes, Terra termed them as golden eagles." He said while gazing at his trígono. It flipped onto its left side and circled the vast space, coming to a standstill beside its master.

"Chosen by the hunter at a young age, eaglets go through training in order to develop a trusting relationship. After many years of bonding, both have the synergy needed to capture prey for the family."

The group sat down together as Dario concluded. "Albeit a machine, it's the same with Trigon and I. The device would not be mine if it were not the case."

"Of course." Titan agreed. "You were the only candidate that could operate the technology without difficulty."

"Which was fortunate for me." Yolane expressed in a charming fashion and a slight blush coloured Dario's cheeks in response.

"Governor Titan, why have you summoned this dear man today?" She asked as she tilted her head to her husband. Noticed the annoyance lining the corners of his lips and smiled knowingly.

Titan ignored her by focusing on the hovering triangle and then gazed at Dario. A bead of sweat mixed with the curl dangling from his sideburn. He scowled at this. The man had nothing to worry about; it was a mere debriefing. On the other hand, perhaps, his wife was the cause. She did have the knack for persuading men into doing her biding.

No, that wasn't it. He could sense the man's nerves from across the table.

Meanwhile, in the adjoining office lingered Nesra, determined on listening in on the discussion. It was as much for his sake as it was for the spies from Terra. If he was to be their informant, he had to know both sides of the story. And since a great deal of effort went into selling the news of a functioning weapon. Which did not work, his role had to be convincing.

Inside the conference room, the Governor smiled ignorant of the snoop, and slid the folder over to the scout.

"Did you confirm our suspicion?"

"Yes, Sir. The address inserted on leave was, without a doubt, Terra's destination. They are a part of SG1."

"Excellent." The Governor clasped his hands in glee, Yolane celebrating with a mischievous smirk. It was indeed excellent news. Dario merely dipped his chin.

"Since the first portion of our plan has worked accordingly, with the assistance of Nesra, we can continue on to the next stage."

"Which will be what exactly, Governor Titan?" Yolane probed. "I thought it would be standard procedure."

He stared at her, eyes slightly narrowed as if to determine her real agenda. Then, smiled instead and replied nonchalantly.

"Of course, Commander. Have in mind that they will come here with a strategy as well. Diplomatic, I surmise. We must provide in view of that by decreasing their size."

"You want to splinter them into smaller fragments. Make them vulnerable to attack and easier for us to subdue."

Titan's expression softened desire evident, as he gazed at his wife. She discerned the behavior straightaway and a wicked sneer laced her lips as she spoke.

"As a show of faith, you'll make it seem as if it's their idea to explore our city. When in reality, your cooperation will give them confidence to carry out their intended ploy."

He nodded in lieu of a verbal reply, gaze lingering on her lips before turning his attention on Dario.

"For fear of recognition, those you shadowed will not return, whereas the rest of their team will come through to visit our beloved Ramin."

He directed the man's gaze towards the folder. Dario peeled back the first layer and scowled as several photographs came into view.

"The image at the top is General O'Neill, leader of their operations."

The scout dipped his chin, whilst positioning each individual in clear view.

Titan gestured at the woman.

"She goes by the name of Lt. Colonel Samantha Carter." He declared with animosity. "Next, the bespectacled one is Dr Daniel Jackson. And the man with a golden symbol on his forehead goes by the name of Teal'c."

"He's Jaffa?" Dario questioned somewhat rattled.

"Yes, he is." Yolane confirmed equally worried.

"Those three, together with those you followed, have caused the Lucian Alliance significant misfortune. They'll keep our fatal weakness under wraps in exchange for their capture."

"And the older gentleman?"

"Yes, Governor, what of the General?" The Commander inquired with a cant of her head, eyes scrutinizing with interest.

Titan slipped from his chair, her eyes trailing his movement. He moved past her, halted and glimpsed the smirk slinking across her lips, before progressing towards the window overlooking the city. He locked his hands behind his back and thought for a while.

In the office, Nesra and the aide could slice the tense atmosphere with a knife. The information was palpable, exactly what they needed to seek out and destroy the weapon. Moreover, the strangers' curiosity gave them the desired gap to infiltrate the government, and finish what they'd begun years before.

They huddled closer to the door, listening as Titan answered the questions.

"As you know, the smaller chelónas can operate on their own, but their Predominant." He sighed dejected. "Suffice to say, fighting off the Goa'uld, Replicators and now the Ori has taken a bitter toll. Lastly, the skirmish with the rebellion has finally rendered it inert. If it wasn't for the Alliance's mercy and our usefulness to their cause, they would've slaughtered us."

He moved into a side stance, dark eyes flitting between Yolane and Dario.

"We may have muzzled the rebels after their attack on the weapon, but there is no question they will try again."

"Those slimy lizards crippled our only means of defense against our enemies." Yolane declared livid. "My men will make sure that doesn't happen again."

"I admire your enthusiasm, Commander, and your men's dedication. However, for this, the chelónas will keep those intruders at bay."

Nesra shriveled back towards the couch, Asha following quickly on his heels. He waved him off and sunk down.

Numbers were out of the question. He had to rely upon a few brave men, who were willing to go against a ruler who had devastated their ranks in similar fashion. Nesra's head fell into his hands, defeated.

"To answer your question, Dario." Titan began, eyes lingering on the scout briefly and noticed the rigid posture. Frowned somewhat before continuing. "Amongst our population, you alone hold the strongest strand of the Ramin gene. The trígono is proof of that. However, O'Neill's gene supersedes yours by far. It's then no secret that this city needs him in order to repair the Predominant. Therefore, it's imperative that we capture them."

"Why invite my dear Dario to the table, Governor?"

Yolane joined him in standing, hips swaying as she walked to and past him. Her hazel eyes scanned over the dozens of buildings glistening in the sunset. Titan regarded her form, expressly how the blue uniform accented her curves, and cleared his throat, tilting back to Dario.

"Oh yes, thank you, Commander for the reminder. It's a definite that SG1 will embark on their mission with additional soldiers joining them for O'Neill's sake. Which for a fact I know is a ruse. Due to the Gateway's thirty-minute distance from Ramin, it will allow for a clandestine search of the ruins where the Predominant _presumably_ presides. I've taken the liberty to arrange the chelónas in storage there to keep them preoccupied. Nonetheless, for unseen purposes, your scout will gather the survivors and bring them to you. Leaving no stone unturned, as the saying goes."

"Fair enough. Dario and his toy is more than capable in fulfilling the assigned task." Yolane agreed brow furrowed. She turned towards her husband.

"Is it my imagination or are you clairvoyant? You seem confident about their movement, as if they've sent you a blueprint in advance."

"Don't be naïve, Commander." Titan countered, slighted by the remark. "I've merely studied our opponent's tactics and mapped out what I would do in their instance."

His attention moved from her as soon as the scout shifted in his chair, and declared in a subtle warning.

"No doubt their spies have informed them of every possible detail concerning our city." He looked at her, noting the frown disappear from her expression and advised. "Intel provided to them by one of our own. I've had my hand in this from the beginning. There is no reason to question it, but _follow_ _I_ _t_ you will Commander Yolane. Understood?"

She curtsied in a respectful manner. Dario standing to his feet in order to mirror the same action.

"Of course, Governor Titan." Both agreed without dispute. He smiled satisfied with their quick submission.

"Good. As the day of infiltration is yet to be determined, we will commence this meeting at a later stage. You are released from my presence."

Asha backed away from the door in haste, eyes as wide as saucers. Grabbed a sulking Nesra by the arm and dragged him towards the elevator. Hailed for the carriage by pressing the button a few times, before seizing his friend by the shoulders.

"You must leave the premises, quickly, before they see you."

"What does it matter now?" He replied disheartened. "You heard the boldness in his words. There is no hope of foiling his majesty's ploy. Besides, those strangers have no idea . . ."

A ring sounded, the doors opened and they fumbled into the elevator. The aide pressed zero on the panel as he gazed down the corridor, desperation apparent in the action.

"They will if you inform them of the predicament." He whispered.

Nesra watched as the doors slid shut and then stared at the floor, puzzled by the man's perseverance.

"Why? You've seen the result of our rebellion; witnessed our enemies' devastation. The Predominant will remain a force to be reckoned with as long as Titan stays in power. What can outsiders do that gods couldn't?"

"I'm shocked that a man of your stature would surrender so hastily. When what he needs to conquer our taskmaster is staring him right in the face."

"What are you implying?" Nesra stared at him awaiting further explanation.

The elevator came to a standstill. Its doors opening up on the atrium, and in response, Asha retreated into the corner, hiding from view.

"You are the scribe, Nesra, gather the data and make a decision. Our liberty depends on it."

"Of course, into the mouth of the lion I go." He replied as he walked away, and then stopped amid the atrium when something occurred to him.

Asha's suggestions were on the mark. Everything he needed as a scribe retained within this building. He already held Titan's confidence, knew precisely what awaited the foreigners. All he needed to do was use the Governor's strategy to his advantage. Dividing and conquering in like manner.

Furthermore, the rebellion's leadership consisted of three persons. For safety's sake and in case of capture, he had to split the jigsaw puzzle into separate pieces. Yet do it in such a way, that each member _could_ move independent of one another. It would place additional strain on SG1, yes, nevertheless, it would frustrate the Governor's ploy.

Nesra moved from the lobby and headed for the revolving door, mind resolute on the formulated plan. If it worked, Ramin would be free once again.


	10. Let's Make a Plan

**CHAPTER 10** : LET'S MAKE A PLAN

 **PRESENT DAY**

"Nesra assured our plan would work. That we could operate without discovery. Now I hear that he had known of this blindside from the beginning. That it was in fact _he_ who facilitated the fabricated information. He placed my team in harm's way. Hundreds of residents slain, all to enable an uprising. It is not how you stage a rebellion. I would know."

The Jaffa moved into a side stance, disapproval visible on his face as his posture stiffened and jaw gritted in frustration.

Fearing the outcome, Asha quickly explained.

"It was our only salvation, Teal'c. You supplied us with the necessary opportunity and cover to prevent a tyrant from initiating Ramin's rebirth. Does it not surpass the loss, knowing what will be gained in the aftermath? It will be the one moment in history that will stand immovable for annos to come."

Teal'c faced him with anger glimmering in his eyes. Asha retreated a few steps, acting as if the small space was a snake's hold.

"Your arrogance is astonishing. No wonder you hide like a coward in the shadow of your master. How dare you justify your actions? When you think as Titan, do as Titan and argue as Titan. What truly separates you and Nesra from his ideals?"

Shock registered on the aide's countenance and retorted swiftly, "You know nothing . . ."

"I have adequate understanding, Asha. You are the one who lacks knowledge. Who thinks his planet, this city, is the only one that suffers under the command of an oppressor. Many are less fortunate than you are. Many have witnessed devastation at the hands of the system lords. Thousands at the mercy of humans with god-like abilities. If it were not for your weapon, Ramin would be a speck of dust. An ancient memory buried underneath the accomplishment of a Goa'uld. Titan will soon discover that you are nothing when the Lucian Alliance acquires what they want. Your rebellion will be useless and my friends will have sacrificed their lives for nothing."

Asha stared at the warrior at a loss for words. It wasn't what he'd imagined from somebody whose motives were just as insincere as his were. Although, Teal'c had been correct about one thing. Ramin was fortunate to have preserved their heritage. Unlike those who'd lost theirs to the enemy.

Misery slinked across his face, defeat evident as his gaze lowered to the floor.

Teal'c observed the change in Asha's behaviour, turned towards the door and glanced over his shoulder.

"Your rebellion has created a set of events, I, unfortunately, cannot reverse on my own. What is more, if I want my team to survive until the end, I can't stay here and wait for the enemy to encircle us. Nor can you disappoint Nesra and neglect your people."

"You've stated your disapproval. Emphasized the mistakes in our motive. What would you have me do?"

"Where is the weapon if not at the ruins?"

"For starters, Nesra was sincere when he gave you the coordinates. It was where it presided, before they moved it to make space for the chelónas' creation." Asha faltered as the warrior glared at him and swiftly offered. "It's north west of the Gateway, hidden in the mountain's peak. However, your friends locate in the opposite direction, at the defense facility that is heavily guarded."

"It is not my destination. We have no choice but to pursue the Predominant. It will be our leverage to free my teammates."

"Then . . ." He agreed, though didn't finish the thought, as Teal'c's expression hardened, sending a shiver down his spine.

"Whatever happens, it is not for you that I do this. Do not expect sympathy for your cause."

The door opened, the Jaffa peering down both sides of the corridor and walked forward, unconcerned if the man followed or not.

Asha swallowed back the knot in his throat and jogged after him, keeping close to his heels as possible. Teal'c hailed for the elevator and a minute later, it opened.

"Wait here." He instructed.

The aide nodded, observing as the warrior stepped inside, chose number ten on the panel, and then walked out before it slid shut and obeyed its command.

Teal'c gazed at Asha.

"It will draw their attention for a brief moment while we move via the alternative routes."

He jogged for the stairway situated to their right, and upon arrival, silently opened the door. When it was vacant of assailants, he gestured for the aide, who followed faithfully behind for the duration of twenty-four floors.

Along the way, they eluded several patrols, swopping between staircases and escalators attached to the different atriums. Sent down decoy elevators to various levels, and then finally hid in a janitor's closet on the sixth floor.

Silence settled in. The sound of breathing irritating Asha's already tense frame. To the point of screaming, when the warrior whispered in his direction.

"Six floors situate between us and freedom. All under heavy guard unless we find a way through their defenses."

The aide scowled, waiting for the warrior to continue, but then realised it was in fact the opposite. He was asking for advice.

"One-one-once an attack of such magnitude subsides, military steps in and evacuates the headquarters floor by floor. Commencing at the lowest level, naturally."

"However, as we witnessed, some floors were already cleared. Indicating the workers had disregarded protocol and vacated at their own risk."

"Keep in mind that some had left during lunch hour."

"Indeed, I was there as the groups disbanded. Moreover, many encountered the bombings around the square and inside the building."

Asha glanced at the warrior's watch.

"It's been thirty minutes since the attack ceased. I approximate at least ten minutes per floor. However, due to their hunt, they've most certainly sped up the process."

The men gazed at one another. Thinking quietly to themselves, until Teal'c scanned the interior of the closet and rose to his feet. The aide's interest piqued, watching as the warrior discarded his combat vest and emptied its contents. Next, shrugged off his jacket, grabbing the janitor's uniform shirt from the shelf. Slipped into it and then knelt down, bundling the necessary gear in his jacket. Off to the left located a cart and he stashed it in the empty, oblong water bucket.

"Does the governor know of your position in the rebellion?" Teal'c queried as he helped Asha to his feet.

He shook his head as 'no'.

"Are you confident the guards will not recognize you as a threat?"

His chin bobbed like a jackhammer, but the Jaffa could see the fear in his eyes.

"You must tell me now, Asha or they'll seize us the moment we reach the lobby."

He glared at the aide, his grey eyes in particular. As it displayed what he wanted to know, he gazed at the cleaning supplies packed on the shelves surrounding them. The aide followed the action and swallowed nervously.

"The-the-there might be another way we can leave here alive."

The warrior's eyes flashed with frustration, increasing the aide's nerves.

"I-I-I know I should've said something before, but now that I see what you're planning I think it's possible. We'll have to travel down to the third floor, pass through the museum of Ramin's antiquities . . . Oh, I don't think we'll make it that far. It just might be what they want us to do. Although, it might be better than walking into the belly of the beast."

"I'll throw you into the belly of the beast, if you don't apprise me of the exit route."

The comment startled the aide, but recovered quick as lightening and gestured at the top shelf to the right.

"It's a fire escape actually. And you'll need the cover." Teal'c followed his hand, glancing over his shoulder at the green object, and then peered back at him.

"For the symbol on your forehead of course. That is, if we're aiming for the element of surprise."

* * *

 **DEFENSE FACILITY**

Governor Titan gazed at the transparent tablet in his hand, ogling the different angles provided by the security cameras, and then huffed an irritated sigh before placing it on the table.

"I ordered you to keep them separated."

"An order I followed until the last second." Yolane replied, grinning playfully as he glared at her. "Besides, it was for surveillance purposes. In pairs, they will offer valuable Intel, particularly on the Jaffa, who, I might add, still eludes our forces."

Titan sat down on the corner of the table. Crossed his forearms over his chest, while glancing the footage streaming on the tablet.

A frown creased his brow, revealing how he felt about her insubordination. It wasn't meant to be a fact finding mission, but a hunt in order to revive the Predominant. Furthermore, it was to mount a solid defense before the Alliance returned for their prize. There was no reason to keep them comfortable during the waiting period.

Sensing his frustration, Yolane moved towards him, and once in proximity, raised his chin to gaze into his eyes.

"You promised me pristine merchandise. All but two are injured. Additionally, as you can see, they have helped the wounded, minimizing the damage. Your gift to me . . ."

Titan tilted his chin away from her fingers and stood to his feet, dissatisfied with her fascination for O'Neill.

"Yolane, the General is not yours to have. His wounds, unfortunate as it may be, will be the perfect cover once the weapon drains him of his strength. Then we will hand his almost lifeless body over to the Lucian Alliance. It was the agreement, you know this."

"As I recall from our conversation, you said we needed him. There was no mention of surrendering my jewel to the Alliance." She paused, noting his anxiety for the first time. Her hazel eyes narrowed, scrutinizing the muscles stiffen along his jaw.

"It is so unlike you to place your wife's wishes beneath your own."

He rubbed at the bridge of his nose, gritting his teeth as frustration seethed.

"This not about your obsession for compliance, Yolane. They are not toys you can bend to your will. This about protecting our reign of Ramin. We must use whatever means necessary to ensure that it stays so. Before these foreigners leave."

"I see, so in hindsight, none of us fulfilled the other's directives. Nevertheless, by activating the listening devices I covered your haste. Now, it can be used to our advantage."

"Do not patronize me, Yolane. No one, except for the man with the glasses, has voiced their true frustration. Can it be that their bruises has silenced them? Or did your spy tip them off?"

"Nesra is as faithful as they come." She refuted confident. Afterward, turned her back on him as she resumed.

"He has won their trust fast and unwittingly. Unlike you who used brute force to subdue them. Their trust in you dissipated with the attack on our headquarters. Not to mention that of the chasm. If I had not intervened, instructing Dario to minimize the rock fall, the humans from Terra would not have given you this."

Titan's expression snarled, eyes trailing her movement as she grabbed the translucent device off the table. She changed its display, calling up the individual vital scans provided by the holding cells. Tapped the statistics tab and three profiles lined up with the strongest first and weakest last.

"Once again, where you failed, I succeeded." She stated haughtily.

She showed it to her husband, who took it with a wary action. He skimmed through the information, eyes expanding with each statistic.

"What?" He exclaimed after a brief silence. "How can this be?"

"Ostensibly, my jewel is not the only one with the gene, as the Lucian Alliance led you to believe. No, the soldier with the unkempt hair is the strongest among the three."

"Are you certain?" His gaze snapped up, drilling her with an inquisitive look. "Has this been vetted by the scientists?"

"How dare you question my credibility? Of course they confirmed it!"

Titan set the device down, grabbing hold of her hands in a soft grip and gazed into her eyes.

"You must forgive me. I was under the impression Dario was of the last, who still had control over the Predominant, and the technology attached to it. It is by sheer wonder the scientists could offer the chelónas as suitable replacements."

"Yes, unfortunately we discovered too late that it was our own undoing, which eradicated the ancestor's genetics. Dictatorship can be deadly as it is cruel."

Her husband let go of her hands and intended to leave her office without offering a negation.

Yolane scowled at the behaviour. Titan never showed this much indifference before. He'd always been stable, confident and teeming with authority, yet now he appeared as if he was unravelling at the seams.

"What will you do with this new development?" She asked, stopping him from opening the door. "Surely the soldier can replace the General."

Titan's posture become rigid, frame wrought with anger. How could she not see that her excessive inquiries fell on deaf ears? This was his operation and his alone, there was no room for her fetishes.

He glanced over his shoulder, lips curling into a malicious smile.

"Oh, he won't be replacing anyone today, Commander. In fact, the more the merrier. We must show our new allies what the Predominant is capable of at its full capacity."

A knife-like sensation pierced her heart as he opened the door and exited the room. Gooseflesh ran along her arms. The declarations causing fear, shock and confusion in a way she'd never experienced before. The last statement alone seemed as if this was about more than just protecting his throne. As if, the Alliance's interest was merely an excuse for him to cause more destruction than usual.

Yolane shuddered at the thought. Suddenly, their fun and games had turned treacherous, and she feared that her forces would soon suffer the same fate as the citizens. It simply couldn't happen, not on her watch. She had to pick the cream of the crop, and leave before her husband's plan came into effect.

This time, the foreigners would have to fend for themselves; she couldn't interfere any longer.


	11. Worse for Wear (part 1)

**CHAPTER 11** : WORSE FOR WEAR (PART 1)

The silence was intense as Sam avoided Jack's gaze. A fresh set of tears trailing down her cheeks as she fought against justifying herself. His grip tightened on the bundled jacket, considering the next action carefully, then he reached out, wiping them away with his thumb.

Sam closed her eyes with the touch, embracing the back of his hand and reveled in its warmth. The comfort, his solace, she appreciated; however, it only inflamed the embarrassment.

"You're so hard on yourself, Sam." Jack acknowledged in a soft tone.

She grinned bashfully, enjoying the use of her name. His own smirk widened, happy he could make her smile still.

"No dwelling. That's an order." He instructed playfully and lowered his hand.

Carter opened her eyes, and gazed at him while responding with a curt nod. He continued. "It causes all kinds of ulcers. Well, so I've heard."

She snickered, adjusting from the kneeling position to sit down next to him.

Jack's body, in the meantime, trembled somewhat as he fought against the coughing spell. Nevertheless, the shortness was apparent and concern creased her facial features.

"Sir, you should . . ."

". . . breathe?" She dipped her chin. "Never stopped since I was born." He joked and when he didn't receive the same ovation as before, he concluded sullen. "Fine, if that's what the doctor wants."

"It's not a matter of what I want." She said briskly.

Jack raised an eyebrow, puzzled by the reply. Since the joke was his way of telling her that he had forgiven her, he'd thought they'd settled the subject of the botched mission. A wince lined her face displaying that she agreed with him. At present, they should focus on the surviving part, by starting with easing the pain.

Her hand relocated to where his ribs hurt the most and he inhaled a deep, slow breath. Exhaled gradually; face furrowing in agony as the area protested, even so, carried on with the exercise for five minutes before he felt it was enough.

"Is there more . . . that you want, Carter?" Jack inquired thoughtfully.

Her brow furrowed, retracting her hand before he could take hold of it. He perceived the mixture of emotions on her countenance as she gazed into his eyes, searching for consent. Jack scrutinized in return waiting patiently for a reply, eager to know what she was thinking.

"I don't know anymore."

"Hold the presses, folks. Did I just hear correctly?" He quipped, hoping for a chuckle or a chirpy response. Instead received a smirk that ghosted her lips and faded abruptly.

"C'mon Carter. As I recall, we've had worse. I was there for the most part."

 _It isn't that_ , Sam thought to herself. _It's the way I wanted this to work so badly. To prove myself to you. To get over myself and realise that what I've experienced these last few months, isn't the loss of hope._

 _To be honest, Jack. All I want is for you to promise me everything's gonna be okay. That I am strong. Fearless. That we'll bring the team back home, together. Safely._

She moved to confess, when the barrier behind them retracted and the sound of boots entered the cell. A guard cuffed her with his baton, sending an electrical current through her frame. Pushed her aside and reached out to grab Jack by the arm, but she retaliated by kicking at his knees.

He fell forward against the wall and before she could stand, the second guard offered another blow. This time to her shoulder. Sam went down to one knee, absorbing the current as best she could, and pushed off aiming for the woman.

"Carter!"

She stopped at Jack's call, glaring dangerously at the oncoming guard. The woman grabbed her arm, twisted it behind to her back and pushed her towards the farthest wall. Whereas the other guard helped the General to his feet.

Hissing in pain, Jack straightened in posture and gazed at Sam. His eyes displayed that it was okay. She retaliated regardless, shoving against her captor, yet received a jolt to the back, forcing her down to her knees.

"Hey!" Jack growled. "It's me you want. Not her."

"Quiet." Clarice spat. "A fox has no authority."

"So that's what we are." He said with a deadpan expression. "Comforting."

"Silence." The man demanded, knocking him from behind.

Jack stumbled along the wall, for the entrance, all the while keeping an eye on Sam.

Her eye line lifted from the floor, anger evident as she thrust her elbow towards the woman's stomach. Its sharp edge collided with flesh in a dull thwack and a puff of air exhaled tersely. Next, she grabbed her by the neck and flipped her over her shoulder. The woman landed flush on her back visibly surprised, the baton dispersing from her grip in the process. Sam scurried after it, eager to follow through on her attack plan, but then a handgun cocked outside in the corridor and she froze. Fingers still curled around the object as she straightened.

"You are worthy of your protector, General." Yolane commended. "Alas, she has accomplished all that she can."

Jack scowled at the familiar figure standing before him.

A shrewd smile curled her lips and widened as her guard forced the Lt. Colonel down to her knees. Clarice grabbed the baton and forced its rounded edge between her shoulder blades. Sam cried out as the current numbed her muscles, forcing her into a bent position.

"That's enough!" Jack demanded and then murmured as pain shot across his chest. "She only . . ." He inhaled an uncomfortable breath before completing the thought. "She only did what's required."

"As were my guards." Yolane replied dismissively.

Using the wall for support, he observed her gesture at the woman to stand down. She then gazed at Sam, smirking in a wolfish manner. Anger burned in Jack's chest, the woman reminding him of those pompous snakeheads. Perhaps it was the reason why the Goa'uld's had left the planet in the first place. His glare intensified, but had no effect on the Commander. Instead, she enjoyed every bit of their rebellion.

"Nevertheless, your subordinate knew the consequences and fared well to absorb the repercussion like a sponge."

She walked towards him, all the while calling the guard over to assist. Once in proximity, she placed a hand on his cheek. Jack glared at the action, though didn't retaliate like he did last time. Sam, however, scowled, annoyed with the woman as she resumed in speaking.

"As a leader, you know this and act accordingly. It is admirable no doubt. You would rather shield them, than permit a needless death."

"Nice assessment." He replied with a teasing sneer. "Something you got from your mother? She must be so proud."

Untroubled, she mirrored the flippant smile and his expression fell. Ostensibly, his behavior didn't bother her at all, it merely spurred her on.

"What do you want with the General?" Sam asked, to Jack's delight, drawing the Commander's attention.

Yolane gazed at him intently, admiring his stubbornness as if it were a precious stone. Next, titled her head to the left, signaling her command to the guards. They lugged him forward in the direction where Sheppard had disappeared previously. Jack conceded willingly, looking over his shoulder at Sam, who lunged forward after them, but the energy field slid into place thwarting the attempt.

After that, she glared at the Commander, watching how she holstered the handgun behind her back. The women continued to stare at one another for a brief moment before Yolane spoke in a warning manner.

"You alone are to blame for your team's confinement."

"I don't need reminding thank you." Sam replied in an exasperated tone.

The Commander ignored the jab and walked away, leisurely.

"Whereas your need for admiration sealed your lover's fate. There's then no difference between you and me after all." She added as an afterthought. Sam fuming, as she commenced her stride in a gentle swagger.

* * *

 **EARLIER – A FEW CELL BLOCKS AWAY, TO THE WEST**

Nesra leaned forward, assisting Dr Jackson as he slid along the wall to a seated position. Afterward, he took a seat himself, against the wall to the archaeologist's right. Whereas Daniel adjusted the sling and stretched his legs before him, amused as he did so.

"Jack knew it was a trap before you led us to that room."

"Dr Jackson, I don't think now is the time." He protested.

Daniel chuckled and shook his head. "Now, now, I've got the floor, Nesra. Let me speak."

The researcher stuttered his apology hesitantly and looked at the man. Daniel gazed at the crystal-like barrier as if it was a window before continuing with the previous statement.

"I could see it in the way he scanned the room, you know. How he kept an eye on the corridor. The manner in which he looked at me. His apprehension – it was clear as day. So obvious, any fool could see there was no escape. I knew it too, felt it – the same gut feeling I inherited from him of all people. It was a baited trap, but Jack trusted me because I trusted you. Boy was I the fool."

Daniel laughed at the irony and Nesra glared with a confused expression.

"The weapon didn't activate the tractor beam, did it?"

The man shook his head slightly, swallowing his reply. He carried on.

"No, the timing was just too perfect. Those slight seconds before the plaza shattered to pieces, we just _happened_ to lift off. All a setup. And I bet you, those argent chelónas . . . they're not even the weapon you spoke of. Merely a byproduct of the real deal."

"I really think you should . . ." Nesra tried again but Daniel cut him short.

"No, I really think that you lured us there and that _you're_ the one who activated the beam. You had too much experience for a scribe. That much was clear. I mean, not only were you prepared for the release. You programmed it. Even had a shield handy before the soldiers ran into the room. Coincidence my ass, that's called a setup brother."

Nesra lowered his chin, gazing at the floor in a distraught manner.

"Anything else I missed?"

"I am not at liberty to say."

Daniel grunted in disbelief, reflecting the same flippant behavior as a skilled interrogator. It was laughable to say the least.

"Why do the guilty ones always use that as a defense? Especially when they're caught in the act. C'mon, you'll feel so much better once you admit that you _hoodwinked_ us."

"I am not familiar with that saying." Nesra's brow furrowed with the declaration.

"Really? You're going with that? Ah, this is priceless." Daniel looked to the ceiling, laughter rattling in his chest. "Next, you'll say it wasn't by choice. No wait."

He lowered his gaze and said in a mulling tone. "Coerced to do it in order to protect your family. The all too famous prisoner gambit."

Then understanding dawned in a jiffy, and Daniel tilted his head towards the researcher.

"The whole 'I do not understand', 'silence' act may not be an act after all."

"I am . . ."

"Yeah, yeah. You're not at liberty so say. I get it."

The researcher's finger tapped his ear before he placed the same finger against his lips, as before. Daniel nodded, wincing as he did so. He'd known of the surveillance, yes. Sam surmised as much when they discussed possible capture.

Jack didn't know, so he was covered. In a way.

Moreover, the Lanteans would stay quiet, no question there; Sam and Teal'c included. All he did was probe the man for information to confirm his suspicion. Still, he wasn't quite sure if it helped after the fact. Given that, no one was going anywhere anytime soon.

"What's up Daniel?"

Daniel's gaze snapped up and scowled bemused as guards hauled his friend by their cell. At a seemingly gradual pace.

"Hey Jack!"

The frown deepened on his face, noticing how the man protected his right side. It reminded him of a hen covering her chicks with her wings. He asked worried.

"Are you okay?"

Jack's face fell into a deadpan look. "Wrong question Danny."

"Oh, yes. How silly of me." He apologized and then rectified the previous question. "What's up Jack?"

The General's countenance appeared as if he thought deeply and then offered.

"Actually, I have no idea. But we'll be busting outta here real soon. Be seeing ya on the other side!" He declared over his shoulder as they disappeared from view.

Nesra gawked in Daniel's direction seemingly mystified by the exchange.

"He's got a plan." He clarified casually.

"I see you are well."

The men stared at each other before both gazed at Yolane. A frightened look appeared on Nesra's face and grew when she regarded him. Their eyes met for a brief moment, long enough for the archaeologist to see her facial features reveal triumph. Whereas the researcher bowed his head in astonishment. Apparently, he'd collected his reward – admitting to the same fate as the team.

Daniel sensed her eyes inspecting him.

"You are Dr Jackson, I suppose." Yolane said.

"And I believe you are the Commander of this here facility."

"I am indeed. Then you are wise enough to know your place."

"Yeah, unfortunately I do." Daniel agreed in a bitter tone.

"Excellent." She gestured dismissively. "I will leave you be, as I have other matters to attend to."

"Of course." He mirrored the same gesture, though a satirical grin tugged at his lips. "We wouldn't want to keep you any longer."

Yolane dipped her chin in lieu of a verbal reply. A sly smirk sneaking across her expression as she followed behind the guards.

"Wow, what a peacock!" Daniel chuckled. "The sad truth is the female's not much of a looker."

"I understand what you mean." Nesra agreed with a curt nod.

Daniel gaped bewildered. He was so sure they'd given him the worst bunkmate of them all; on purpose. "Uh, bad timing Nes, really bad timing."


	12. Worse for Wear (part 2)

**CHAPTER 12** : WORSE FOR WEAR (Part 2)

 **FIFTEEN MINUTES AGO – AROUND THE CORNER, TO THE NORTH**

"Hey sweet cheeks. Sleep well?"

Rodney's eyelids fluttered for a moment or two, opened them a tad before he closed them again, and then a growl erupted as pain in his lower limbs came through in full vigor. He lifted his head for a better view, eyes expanding suddenly before he lowered it again.

"I must say. This kinda reminds me of the previous outing." John offered as a possible distraction.

The Canadian gave him a nasty look and placed his arm on his forehead, altering his emotions to the agony best he could. Breathed deeply before calming down in a hefty groan.

Somehow, his tomb had concealed the severity more than he knew or even felt in that instance. It wasn't such a good thing though. Frankly, nothing about this mission had been good or favorable.

"How is it the same? Here . . . I'm dying. There . . . you shot me." Rodney reminded him through a pursed jaw.

"And I said I was sorry. A few times. I even cut your food for you, just so you could stop with the damn complaining."

"There's clearly a difference, Sheppard." Rodney disagreed and turned his head away. "Any idiot can see it. I'm feeling it!"

"How?" John exclaimed with hands spread-eagle. "You behaved like a man-child. You milked it. You still are."

"No, I'm bleeding out." He corrected in a strange yet calm manner.

John's heart skipped a beat, realising the Canadian had already accepted his fate. He wouldn't allow it, not if he had the power to prolong it. He shrugged, feigning innocence and replied deadpan.

"I don't get it."

"What?" Rodney turned his gaze on the Lt. Colonel, feeling out of the loop.

"Is that some kinda reference to a gangster flick? I know my movies. Trust me."

"No!" He retorted outraged.

"The _Godfather_ perhaps. 'Leave the gun and take the cannoli'." John snorted.

"Honestly, do I look like someone from the Godfather?"

The men shared a pensive look. It was no superman similarity, but the Lt. Colonel's diversion had worked. He could see the man's mind churning at a relentless pace.

John shook his head and crawled closer. "Nah, you're right. Maybe it's the one Hugh Grant played in. The movie with the mobsters."

"He did the romantic stuff." Rodney paused and considered the answer, then quickly rectified, in dire need to protect his dignity. "Not that I would know."

"Yeah, that's it." John ignored him, failing to hide the humorous sneer. "It was _Mickey Blue Eyes_ with James Caan."

"Another Godfather actor? You gotta be kidding me."

"Now Robert De Niro. He portrayed an excellent mobster."

"Yeah, he's got the face for it." Rodney agreed.

"'You talkin' to me?'" John impersonated. "What was the other one? Oh, yes! 'What are you, stupid?'" He laughed as the scenes came to mind.

"No. No, I'm not." Rodney answered serious and unexpected. "And you can stop souping up the situation with charisma. It's not making me feel any better."

"Why did you do it?" John asked just as serious.

It took the Canadian by surprise and he scowled puzzled.

"What? You've lost me."

"Why did you jump?"

Rodney glared at the Lt. Colonel for a while before narrowing his eyes.

"Why did you throttle me?"

"Firstly, that's exaggerating. And secondly, I'll answer yours if you answer mine."

"Only if you give me the real rundown and not whatever it is you're doing. I know how screwed we are."

"Deal." John extended his hand, indicating with his eyes to accept it. Rodney scrutinized the gesture before grabbing it in a vice grip.

"Deal." He said and let go. Afterward, his face turned solemn as an abrupt nauseating feeling settled over him.

"Are you okay?" John asked almost immediately. "Or are you avoiding the question?"

"Ditto on the first one. Blood kinda filled a pint or two already."

A sad grimace etched John's face, hinting how he felt about their situation. In a way, he was responsible. He should've never accepted the invitation, albeit friendly, listened to Stargate Command and forced Rodney to join in on the endeavor. His gaze lowered to the floor.

"I did the best I could, McKay, but the bastards left us high and dry."

Rodney groaned as the wounds reached the raging level. It felt like it was seeping through to his bones. It hurt like hell, especially with the lack of painkillers.

When John checked the deep gash on his leg, he closed his eyes and absorbed the pain with shallow breaths.

"I was angry at someone who knew better than to back the wrong physicist."

Sheppard paused in the deed and gazed at his friend before examining his knee. He deserved the insult and accepted it as such.

"I jumped out of spitefulness. Arrogance definitely. Importance, not an understatement. And mostly because of the way they had dismissed me like I was some kind of rookie. I felt slighted and betrayed and . . . alone."

The Canadian swallowed a few times, tears welling in his eyes as John swopped the bandage on his knee for a fresh one. Then noticed the man's pants had shortened since he'd last seen him. Somehow, it helped dint the tense atmosphere between them. If only for a bit.

"Ah, just leave it will you?" A shaky laugh slipped past his lips. "What's the use in caring for a dead man?"

Sheppard stilled for a few seconds before continuing.

"We have a deal remember."

"Vividly." McKay closed his eyes, and then opened them hastily as weariness crept in.

"There must be other patsies in this joint. Maybe hearing about their bad luck will lessen mine."

"I doubt it." He murmured.

Rodney's expression snarled, glaring in confusion. John looked at him, deciphering how he could notify him without giving away too much information, and then explained.

"Okay, let's see. Around the corner, there's this guy with these funky, rectangular specs. Dislocated his arm in the retreat, seems like it, whereas the gaunt fellow with him has a weird vibe to him. On edge too. Possibly a Liberian. Then, further down from their cell, there is a blonde soldier. She's unharmed and the old man with her. He held his ribs when we passed by, so I guess a few is either badly bruised or fractured."

"How on earth did that happen?"

Sheppard moved back and crossed his legs, eyes lingering on his knees before he gazed at McKay. It took a while for the physicist to search through the haze clouding his mind. But once he found clearance, merely dipped his eyes in accord.

The facility was state of the art, packed with listening and visual devices, that, and John truly did not know what had happened. All he knew was that they were all stuck in a hurricane, desperate for it to blow over. However, apart from them, he drifted in a molten lava river like those bug-eyed androids on Mustafar. He really hoped their mission didn't follow in Anakin's footsteps. He rather enjoyed walking, even though he whined most of the time about John not taking the Jumper out more often.

The physicist stopped his meandering thoughts in their tracks.

Someone else was missing from the puzzle. The Lt. Colonel had failed to mention him. The Jaffa, wherever he was, certainly wasn't locked up. It was the best news he'd heard thus far. Soothing and comforting, he thought, until his eyes closed and the world around him darkened.

He was silent for a while before Sheppard realised he was unconscious. He checked the man's pulse to be sure, and sighed when it thumped at its abnormal, slow speed.

Behind him, the energy field distorted and a sinking feeling formed in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't leave, not when McKay's life was hanging on by a thread.

"Get up."

John lifted his gaze towards the man who'd given the command.

"Your friend too."

"Leave him. He's worth squat to you." A familiar voice advised.

Sheppard leaned forward, peering past the hunk of flesh, and acknowledged the General with a sloppy salute. Jack smirked briefly before a coughing fit seized him. It was wet, but fortunately, no blood saturated his lips.

"You heard the man."

"Yes, Sir."

John stood to his feet, wondering if he should alert McKay to the event. Yet if the guard's voice and the General's coughing had no effect, booting him certainly wouldn't.

Disinclined to leave, he took a small step towards his leader, narrowing his eyes at the guards who supported O'Neill, the woman in particular.

"Came to gloat?" John asked with a cheeky grin. "To collect your fox no doubt."

"Ostensibly, it's the norm in these neck of the woods." Jack said.

"It if wasn't for my Commander, you would pay for this impudence." She replied with a dirty look.

"Aaa, brings back fond memories." Jack trailed off.

"What does that mean anyways?" John asked perplexed.

"That's what I said." The General replied overjoyed. Next, cleared his throat before asking the guards in a serious tone. "So, what's the hold up?"

"Aemilius . . ."

Yolane came to a halt, watching the scene with a blissful eye, up to the point when she recognized the man in the cell as one of her husband's guardians.

"What is the meaning of this? You are not authorized to be here."

"Neither are you, Commander." Titan said as he stepped from the chamber beside the Lantean's one.

Dread shattered Yolane's bliss, her countenance instantly changing to a composed veneer. When deep inside it was shrinking by the second. This wasn't part of the plan and O'Neill was the first to recognize her pretense.

"Nice, a good ol' western standoff. Just what the doctor ordered." Jack quipped as he gazed between the different parties. "This is gonna be great." He celebrated in his renowned irreverent way.

John couldn't help but revel in the man's sarcasm. However, in a time like this, he rather advised against it, as both newcomers matched each other equally in authority. Moreover, they were stuck in the middle, literally, though, the General didn't seem to mind. It looked like the perfect opportunity to help the rift along. Divide or be divided and he hoped the former sufficed, for their sake as well as for Rodney's.

Titan stepped forward and glanced at the physicist's condition, scowled in dislike as he did so, before his eyes briefly scanned over John. With a brisk nod, he ordered the guardian to seize the Lt Colonel and then looked at Jack.

"I would not be as exuberant as you if I knew this were my last day."

"I would not be so quick to judge my friend." Jack said, matching the man's cockiness. "So I've had a bad run. Doesn't mean I haven't lived to die another day. Just ask him." He gestured with his chin at Sheppard.

The Lt. Colonel stared, visibly lost. Jack frowned, realising his mistake, covered it with a smile and rectified.

"Wrong man, but he should know. There's been plenty, _plenty_ of days like today. 3285 . . . give or take."

A sardonic smirk curled Titan's lips, enjoying the man's peculiar dialect. Progressed further down the passage, making sure his wife stayed in her position a few meters behind the General. Halted beside the said soldier and witnessed how he fought to keep his military mask intact. But behind it, discomfort begged to burst forth like a fountain.

He smiled at this and walked for Yolane, whilst addressing O'Neill.

"It is a wonder that your enemies kept your tongue as is. It would have saved them hours of torture."

"They know better than to ruin something that compliments my rugged façade."

Titan ignored him, came to a standstill next to Yolane and took hold of her bicep. An action that elicited a soft hiss. Jack heard it and grimaced on her behalf, turning his head away before the man could glimpse his pity.

"Your so called jewel has a mustang's spirit, Commander. Irreverent, stubborn and to the brim with stoic power."

"Did he just call me a horse?" Jack asked of the Lt. Colonel.

"I believe so." He whispered in return.

"Then why don't ya come and put me down like one." O'Neill directed at the Governor.

"With all due respect, I don't think that's sucha good idea." John warned subtly.

"Silence, dog." Titan cautioned. "Before I honour your wish."

"They really like branding their prisoners as animals."

Jack joked, then groaned deeply as his knees gave way, and slipped from the guards' grip down to his haunches, before collapsing all together. John moved to help, but the guardian's hold tightened preventing the assistance.

"He needs medical attention." He pleaded. "So does my friend."

"Save it, son." Jack murmured.

"Titan, your stalling is unnecessary." Yolane interposed with a hand on his shoulder. "Take your gems and go. They will be of no use to you as lifeless pawns."

Her husband gazed at her, marking the urgency in her countenance, then looked to the General who was cowering on the floor and finally to Sheppard.

"A valid point, Commander. Take them to the craft before the old man breathes his last."

The guards adhered, grabbing the General by his elbows and carried him away, whereas Sheppard struggled against his captor, reluctant to leave Rodney behind.

Yolane saw his concern and marched for the cell, gasping somewhat as she noticed the severity of the man's injuries.

"What about this one?" She asked.

"He is worthless to me in this ragged condition." Titan said over his shoulder. "And it is a shame. Truly disappointing. Even so, if fortune smiles upon him, he will survive the night."


	13. Rise Above It

**CHAPTER 13** : RISE ABOVE IT

 **RAMIN: H.Q.**

"Come, quickly." Teal'c urged. "The height is manageable."

"F-f-for you it might be." Asha replied with grip secure around the last step of the fire escape. "It's not so for me."

He closed his eyes, fighting against the strain in his back muscles. Moreover, the wind nudged his lower body, making it seem as if he was a peg. When all it did, was add more pressure to his sweaty grasp. His fingers felt raw, tense and on the verge of giving way.

Teal'c gazed down both sides of the alley before lifting his eyes to the dangling man.

"Let go I will catch you."

"Doesn't sound like it."

"Asha, we cannot wait any longer. They will discover the bodies soon. Now, let go."

Truthfully, he didn't want to, but his slick fingers thought otherwise.

His feet made contact with the ground like a feather, while strong hands held him by the stomach and back. Somehow, he was grateful, until the Jaffa shoved him towards the road a few meters away. The haste of the treatment seemed unnecessary, yet urgency was top priority.

"I need direction." Teal'c instructed, as they came to a standstill at the corner.

A dainty t-section split the surrounding glass structures into three separate blocks. The roads and alleyways reminding Teal'c of the streets of Colorado Springs.

They couldn't go back. Right was unthinkable. While left and straight ahead led them away from the hornet's nest. However, he wanted the location of the weapon and not information on the surroundings.

"It is this way."

Asha shot ahead without further thought, Teal'c quick on his heels, who shortly thereafter, surpassed him, leading them into the maze of city structures.

Several minutes along, on the horizon an insignificant, disfigured peak materialized through various silhouettes, followed by a craft in the shape of an owl's talon, which joined the panoramic view. Its flight path heading straight for the peak.

"Wait." The aided called out.

Teal'c halted abruptly and then pulled him towards a dumpster within a small alleyway. Asha bent over, breathless from the sprint and pointed a shaky forefinger at the flying talon.

"That craft belongs to Governor Titan, and judging by its flight trail, it came from the prison."

"Then we must find an alternative route. It is imperative that we reach the mountain before they do."

"The fastest of Ramin's transportation are the trains and trams. Although, due to your fugitive status, they will use its advertisement screens to display an image of you. In addition to the buses and smaller taxi services. While the billboards will be activated at a later stage, giving us much needed shelter to move about."

"Solution Asha." The Jaffa scolded. "I do not desire obstacles."

He gave a curt nod, swallowing the dry feeling in his throat.

"Duly noted." He said. "Two blocks away, we'll enter an epicenter packed with miniature workshops. We can obtain a motorized cycle as a mode of transport, as well as a pair of coveralls to disguise ourselves with."

"Very well." Teal'c agreed, pulling the aide from behind the dumpster and tugged him towards the sidewalk. "Lead the way."

* * *

 **GOVERNOR'S CRAFT**

Titan gazed off to his right, marking the younger man examine the General's injury. No doubt, the pain was unbearable, his ribs like thorns in the flesh threatening to pierce a lung or two if ample pressure occurred. It was ill timed he had to admit, though not as fortunate as the soldier kneeling beside him. He was the perfect specimen, the true individual needed for what he planned to do.

Make no mistake the General was still useful, something he would discover in ten minutes' time. And once the man edged death, the Lucian Alliance would arrive and collect those responsible for his troubles. The archaeologist – he was merely an additive, but the one all desired was still at large. Rumors positioning them somewhere in the automation sector.

Anger tersely flitted over his countenance. At this moment in time, he wasn't only rushing against the Alliance. He was sprinting against a Jaffa with the ability of a chameleon. Moreover, a gaunt traitor with lightning fast perception.

The aide was an unexpected twist in the plot; a man he never suspected. Someone he'd appointed for his quick-mindedness, knack for detail and intelligence. Just what he wanted in his campaign and Nesra had exploited it and worked it in his favour. For what he did not know – Asha was scrawny, pale and brimming with nerves. Not the kind of individual you added to a rebellion.

Then there was Yolane, whose capabilities he certainly wouldn't neglect in this race. She would either flee or stand firm, which made her all the more dangerous.

Titan cursed under his breath. No matter, his most trusted forces were narrowing down on the Jaffa's location, trapping him like a fish in a bowl. It would be a matter of time before those opposed fell at his feet, begging for mercy.

"Sir." His guardian interrupted and the Governor peered over his shoulder.

"Yes, Akuma. Speak."

"A message has come through from . . ." He lowered his voice, stepping closer as he did so. ". . . from the Lucian Alliance. They've changed the deadline to an hour from now. They will be sending a delegate instead."

"What?" Titan thundered outraged, and then dipped his head as Sheppard scowled in their direction. He grabbed the guardian by the arm, leading him away from the seating quarters of the ship.

"Did they give a reason for their haste?"

"No explanation whatsoever, Governor. Merely that they wanted to be certain you held your side of the agreement."

"Of course, I have."

"It is not me you should assure, Sir." Akuma stated matter-of-factly. "Since you signed away half of our rights, they are entitled to Ramin."

"Don't forget who you are addressing, guardian." Titan cautioned, and when the man dipped his head in accord, continued satisfied. "It's not enough time. Fortunately, we have the soldier to make up for the General's lack." He dismissed it with a wave of his hand. "Nevertheless, we need the Predominant ready for when they come. We'll vaporize them from the sky and the foreigners will be ours to keep. Indefinitely."

"Agreed, Governor, yet, do not forget where they come from. Someone will ask soon or later, and then we will have more than the Alliance on our hands."

Titan scowled, mulling over the words. A wicked smile curled his lips, eyes darkening with the deed.

"With the Predominant and its silver followers, none of this will matter. They will think twice before taking what now rightfully belongs to me."

* * *

 **DEFENSE FACILITY**

Anxiety moved through her muscles producing that all too familiar numb feeling. It wasn't normal, she identified, recognizing that her husband's latest endeavors caused the needless fear.

Why was it so difficult to follow his lead? She knew nothing of what he was doing. His behavior, foul mood, and fascination with the foreigners. Everything she knew about him had escalated to a level she didn't want follow after, especially not after their encounter in the prison downstairs.

No, what she desired was to continue on the comfortable path Terra's spies had derailed. When their presence had given Titan a new taste for power.

Yolane paused in her analyses, rethinking her husband's actions as of late.

To be accurate, the Lucian Alliance's meddling had sent him into this dangerous spiral. As result, the Predominant's resurrection had become an appeal she simply couldn't compete with.

Fear elicited a strong nausea in her stomach. She slammed a fist against the table, angry, weak and undecided. Her mind, heart and will balanced on a thin fence. Should she support Titan, witness how the prowling evil consumed him? Or escape via the gateway, taking along what was rightfully hers? Like she'd planned to do after he'd left her behind.

Yolane inhaled a sharp breath against the bile in her throat, and closed her eyes as she exhaled, mentally commanding the sinking feeling to disappear. As she opened them, she glanced to the right, noting the feed from the chambers.

In spite of her disadvantage, maybe she had another option at her disposal.

She had intercepted the call onboard the craft earlier, which relayed strict instructions to Titan's guardians. From the three prisoners, only two would leave with the approaching Alliance. Furthermore, their injured companion was ordained to die on Ramin, whereas Nesra was destined to remain a prisoner until they finalized his punishment.

Unless he escaped somehow.

Her hazel eyes sparkled with newfound confidence.

The leader of the rebellion would come in handy; that was if she wanted to mount a decent counterattack. Nevertheless, she still needed careful planning, so much so that the Governor's seat would fall to her.

What better way to feed her obsession than to have everyone surrender to their Commander and only their Commander.

A mischievous smile quirked her lips as gooseflesh shot over her arms. Her body trembled with euphoria, mind envisioning the prospect of having Ramin as her own.

Yolane turned on her heels, rejuvenated with new energy and mind resolute on her new victim.

Nesra – researcher, spy and rebellion leader, the very person she needed to overthrow her husband's throne. Together they would stand as those who had put an end to a twenty-year old tyranny.

She strode for the door, opened it with a sudden jerk and turned left down the passage, heading straight for the man locked up in sector C.

* * *

Pain shot like lightning through the crumbling catacomb, illuminating the brutal nightmare and finally towed him back to the present. His legs ached terribly and his body was sore with fever. He fluttered his eyes open, closed them and then lifted one eyelid half way, allowing gradual light to fill his view.

"Sheppard."

It was awfully quiet and he wondered if he was still stuck in the horrifying nightmare. There he had clawed his way from the encroaching darkness, yet the more he struggled to break free, the more it increased. It reminded him of that energy-feasting alien two years ago. He shuddered at the memory, opened his eyes fully and squinted through the haze.

"John, this isn't funny." Rodney croaked somewhat frightened.

Now wasn't the time to play hookey. What they needed to do was to find a way out of here before he died. For real. Not like he did in the nightmare countless of times, where with each do over it only got worse. Besides, a repeat of what happened at the well was out of the question. Medical attention was the answer, before the last grain of sand reached the bottom of the hourglass.

The shudder returned in full vigor, fueled by the fever fighting against the infection in his body.

"Dammit Colonel. Where the hell are you?"

Understanding dawned in the silence, dropping into his mind like an anchor and submerged deep down in his prefrontal cortex. _What are you, stupid?_ Yes, he was. No one replied, because John wasn't there, and if he wasn't there, it only meant one thing.

The experiences of the last three days hit him like fiery darts. One after the other they flitted, and he felt the panic crush him beneath its weight. He had stepped through that Gate onto the ramp of the SGC immensely annoyed. Sheppard by his side gung-ho as ever, and then Sam walked up smiling brightly, exactly as she had a few months ago.

That moment, in all its glory, marked his downfall. Since then, nothing had gone his way. The ancient well, those silver ninja turtles and the rock fall – like road signs, death stalked in the shadows.

To make matters worse, he was alone . . . yet again, like he'd always been in his thinking.

"Oh for crying . . ." Rodney swallowed the outburst as a shiver crawled along his spine, dread following quickly in its wake.

Sheppard's jacket was alive and he stayed as still as possible, begging silently for help, from anyone who cared to check up on him.

Metal twanged next. Softly, but it had impersonated a pin drop. His breathing escalated. Dizziness followed suit. Weariness threatened his body. Another sound echoed, in a tone Rodney instantly recognized. It mimicked that of the grenades from the turtle shells, and yet, it lacked the similar humming sound. It was a bee hovering in the air behind his head no doubt. Or maybe it was something else entirely. Either way, he couldn't move even if he wanted to, to get away from the peculiar threat.

"Why me? Why me? Why me?" He whimpered in a chant. "I'm not that interesting. Trust me. I'm boring, timid and clumsy. You name it."

Rodney stopped, opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling, considering briefly.

"It came from the jacket, numbskull." A beat followed when a thought struck. "What the hell is he doing . . ."

The small, circular frame rose above him, emitted a high pitch pulse cascading through the facility in a luminous glow. Then a dark stillness settled over the prisoners, while in McKay's cell, the circular device crumbled to fine powder. The last thing he noticed before the energy barrier wavered.


	14. Escape By Default

**CHAPTER 14** : ESCAPE BY DEFAULT

"Do you hear that?" Daniel asked.

Nesra shook his head as 'no', but then an unexpected blue wave cascaded past them, while a sharp sound resonated in its wake. Next, the energy field distorted as if a heat mirage and disappeared at a zip tone. Overhead, the lights instantly altered from white to blue emergency lights, leaving the men staring astonished.

"Okay, _that_ just happened." Daniel said with a scowl, whereas a shrewd sneer quirked Nesra's lips.

"My spy has come through for us, Dr Jackson."

"Who now?" He asked puzzled, then before the researcher could reply, he raised his hand to silence him. Attuned his ears to what he'd heard a second ago, and declared worried. "Someone's shouting for help."

"It's expected. We are not the only ones imprisoned here; even so, we should concentrate on . . ."

The archaeologist ignored him, rising to his feet in an abrupt manner. The sprained wrist burned in protest, while his shoulder numbed with the deed, but he groaned through it and progressed for the corridor outside their cell. Nesra quick on his heels.

"Daniel." Sam called out from the right. He turned in her direction, confused at first and then smiled in relief when he saw her.

"Hey."

Upon the call, Daniel's expression suddenly turned surprised as she sprinted for their location, straight for Nesra.

"Whoa, whoa, hang on, Sam." He protested, using his body as a barrier between them. "He only did what he needed in order to survive."

"Daniel, he used us." Sam spat. "He's the reason we're in this mess."

"Dr Jackson, your action is honorable." Nesra stepped away from the cover and looked her in the eye, marked the glimmer of dislike in her gaze and concluded. "Nevertheless, I deserve her anger, likewise the punishment for what I did. Although, do keep in mind, that I am also the reason for our release."

"How fortunate we all are." Sam mocked. "Your timing leaves much to be desired, Nesra. We're still a few men down."

"Speaking of which." Daniel interrupted. "I thought I heard McKay's voice after . . ." He frowned somewhat. "What was that anyhow?"

"It's a transient electromagnetic disturbance. Basically, it's an EMP." Sam answered, eyeing Nesra as she moved between them and jogged towards the end of the corridor.

"Or in this happenstance, it may be that a device caused an electrostatic discharge by injecting a high voltage pulse."

They rounded the corner in tandem, the Lt. Colonel concluding as she scanned the facility's structure.

"Though, an advanced building such as this should have preventive measures in place."

"So then what you're saying is. What had transpired is next to impossible?" Daniel asked as they came to a standstill at McKay's cell.

"Or else, a skeletal orb sent a pulse down the electrical networks present in this said facility." Rodney added as he struggled onto his side. "As well as radiating a distinct burst of energy big enough to render everything in its path inert. Moreover, not only may it have shattered my eardrums, but actually may have extended my death by a fraction." He paused in his effort and gazed up at his audience. "Who said a bee sting ain't helpful?"

The group stayed quiet for a while, observing the physicist's bleak complexion. Particularly Sam, who was concerned how they would get him out of the facility. Not only were his life at stake, but also the General's well-being. Along with Daniel, he would slow them down and timing was of vital import. Moreover, she didn't want two losses on her hands.

"Where's the Lt Colonel?" She asked.

Rodney watched as Nesra entered, knelt beside him and examined the lacerations. He stared with a furrowed brow at the outsider and then hissed in Carter's direction.

"Thanks for the concern, Blondie."

"McKay." Sam warned.

"How the hell should I know? If your blue eyes can't tell you that I'm in dire straits, then obviously you can't see they took him. Just for the record." He smiled cynically, sending Sam's frustration to a new level. "Boy does this look and sound familiar."

"McKay now's not the time for discussion." Daniel reprimanded. "General O'Neill's gone as well."

"That's a real shame." He answered, triggering a certain detest within his teammates. "I know how he feels."

Meanwhile, in the chamber behind them, stood Dario calm and collected. The trígono hovered silently at his back as he announced. "They need the two soldiers for the Predominant."

The group froze as one, staring at each other in surprise.

Sam glanced over her shoulder, noted a dark figure and moved into a side stance, quick on the defense. Dario stepped from the shadows, careful and confident. She and Daniel trailed his movement like hunters as he entered the cell.

"It is good to see you my friend." Nesra declared as he stood from his position and embraced the scout in a hug.

"Hey, what about me?" Rodney entreated.

"You know him?" Daniel asked confounded, ignoring the Canadian, whereas Sam stepped towards him for a closer inspection.

"Whoever he is . . ." She began, wincing at the dark liquid that had pooled on the floor. ". . . he is the reason we're free, and now we have to rely upon him to save you, McKay."

"What?" He whimpered appalled. "You're not serious, Sam?"

"Shut up, Rodney." She advised.

He flinched with the cruel rebuke and focused on calming the nausea teeming in his stomach.

"Or would you like for us to leave you here? By your lonesome self?"

McKay gulped, murmuring expletives under his breath and Sam smiled wryly.

"This one . . ." Dario gestured down at McKay, whose expression imitated that of a deer caught in headlights. ". . . Should be thankful he suffers those injuries, otherwise, he would've suffered a cruel and inhumane death."

He gazed between Daniel and Sam, acknowledging them with a brisk nod.

"Sadly, if you continue with this ludicrous bicker, the same fate awaits your friends." Dario then whispered at Nesra, Daniel's head tilting in their direction with the instruction. "Go, the craft hovers outside this Sector. Trigon and I will see to it that he receives the needed attention."

"Excuse me, who's Trigon? And why is McKay so fortunate?"

The Lt. Colonel and Rodney glanced at Daniel and then at the two natives.

"It's aid and the man contains the Raminian gene, likewise, as do I. You . . ." Dario gestured at Carter. ". . . . should go with Nesra now." He spoke to the researcher. "Asha and the Jaffa shadowed the Governor's craft; they will need your assistance."

With the news, Sam interrupted, eager to go. "Where?"

"I saw them leave for the Vertice Montis."

"Are you certain it's within the mountain?" Nesra asked. "I made sure only Asha has the location."

"I intercepted the coordinates from the Governor's craft. It is indeed there."

Sam nodded her approval, whilst gazing at Daniel. "Stay with McKay, make sure he outlives this mission."

"Roger that."

She then beckoned at the researcher to move. When she remembered something, paused on the threshold and voiced. "We need a means of communication."

Dario dipped his chin at the empty chamber signaling the trígono to come forth. The triangle spiraled left, right and then in the opposite direction. Its audience looking on with wonder as it halted in the corridor. Underneath it, Sam's gear along with additional radios floated in a green energy net.

"I believe this is yours." He swept a hand before him and the object released its catch. "Your friends will not need their weapons, as Trigon will protect us from harm."

"Thank you." Sam said as she grabbed for the P-90, her belt with the Zat and seized a radio.

She handed one over to Daniel, which he inserted into his pants' pocket, while she offered another to Rodney, who accepted it with a terse curtsy.

"Let's go." She instructed Nesra as he received a sidearm from his friend.

"Be safe." Sam said to Daniel.

"You too." He declared as he watched them jog down the corridor.

* * *

Five minutes ago, a blue light had flooded towards her, disabling both technology and lights in its wake. Knowing it was Dario's making, she'd called for Aemilius and Clarice and recalled the rest of her security forces from Sector C. Instructing them to focus on containing the rest of the prisoners in the other Sectors.

Now, they were gliding along, vigilant and on the alert for any stragglers. She wouldn't permit the foreigners to leave without her saying so. If Ramin was to be her kingdom, she needed them to achieve it. Simply too much was at stake for everyone, it seemed.

The procession of advancing boots echoed in Yolane's ears, as her guards fell in with her stride. Sidearm poised, she glanced down the parallel passage. Satisfied that all was clear, they moved ahead until the next cross passage filtered into view. Yolane raised her fist in the air. The guards halting with the command.

In the distance, to the left of the corridor, the sound of muted thunderclaps resonated. She beckoned for them go down, stay flush with the wall and be on watch for her signal. Next, she followed the same process and waited.

The sound increased. The advancing figures almost on their position, when they slowed to a halt. Her heart thrummed in her ears, anxiety rising like a tsunami wave.

Did the individuals know of their ambush?

Yolane rose beside the wall, slowly, making her frame as thin as possible. Motioned for the guards to stay. Snaked her handgun forward and lingered in her striking pose. Sweat beaded her temples. Slinked down her cheeks. Cradled at her chin. Whereas her grip on the gun moistened.

She had to admit, it was the first time in years that she'd spearheaded a surprise attack. Where in one, she had to wait for the enemy to make their move and not where her forces ran in with force. She couldn't and wouldn't place her guards in harm's way – it wasn't that type of assignment.

"Stand fast!" She shouted at the unknown figures. "I came to assist you."

She heard familiar voices whisper to one another. A shrewd smirk moved across her face, as they were indeed the ones she was hoping to find.

"Yeah? And how do I know you're not hiding a team in the passage?"

Yolane laughed, enjoying the Lt. Colonel's cautious approach. She didn't blame her for doing so. Though in doing so, she also revealed who she was.

"You don't, but I know you have the leader of the rebellion by your side."

The declaration gave them pause. She holstered the handgun in its case positioned against her belt at her lower back. Revealed an extended hand and heard Sam raise her weapon in defense. She gazed at the guards, dipping her chin to follow the same procedure. Deviance glimmered in their eyes, yet they obeyed and placed their weapons on the floor.

"I have two guards with me. Both are unarmed and as you can see, I am as well."

She strode forward, noting Nesra and the Lt. Colonel trail her movements with their weapons. The guards followed reluctantly and stood behind her, arms propped for them to see.

"You." Sam gestured at Clarice. "Move away from her back. I know she has a holster there."

Clarice narrowed her eyes in anger, nevertheless adhered and stood on Aemilius' right.

"Satisfied, my dear?" Yolane asked.

"What do you want, Commander?" Nesra inquired. "I thought you would be by your husband's side. Observing how he killed two innocent men in order to save his precious city from the Lucian Alliance."

"What?" It was the first Sam had heard about their interference and Yolane discerned it immediately.

"Yes, Samantha. The only reason why you are of use to Titan is due to the Alliance's interest in you and your team. This you will witness when they come in an hour's time."

So then she really was the main cause of the team's troubles. Dismay gripped Sam's emotions as the thought settled. Tears threatened, but she swallowed it, bearing in mind that she still had the opportunity to right a wrong.

Yolane smirked shrewdly, knowing she'd delivered the knockout blow and turned her attention on the researcher.

"Nesra, I propose we work together. I supply the manpower and you the plan."

"Why should he trust you?" Sam challenged

"And why should he trust you? I am Raminian. You, a mere female from beyond the gateway. You have nothing to do with our feat."

"Says the one who oppressed his people. Do you think for one second that he will succumb to the likeness of you?"

"Silence woman!" Yolane commanded in a fierce tone. "If I weren't forced to be at his mercy, you would be facing a firing squad. Not debating like a pompous queen."

Sam smirked at the irony.

Nesra lowered his gaze, wondering whether he should accept her offer or decline it. She'd lost her husband's confidence and there was no question he would purge her along with the rest of the rebellion. He could use her assistance up until he had control of the weapon.

"Very well." He decided.

Yolane smiled appreciative, hiding the glint of victory in her hazel eyes. He was audacious, she gave him that, and yet so naïve. A snake as gentle as a dove was the worst kind of creature. One never knew when it would strike.

Her expression opened up in a loving sneer as Carter protested ardently.

"There's no way you can trust her, Nesra. She's just as guilty as Titan."

"I am aware, Samantha Carter." He said in her direction. "Nevertheless, we need her assistance whether we like it or not."

Sam squared her jaw not liking where this was going. Even so, if she wanted to save the General, a deal with the devil would have to suffice. Only to get what she wanted.

"I have one condition." Nesra declared. To the Colonel's satisfaction. "These guards are the only support you will have at your side. Furthermore, terms of your surrender will follow once the weapon's inoperable."

Yolane snorted at his demand. "You are audacious for a man who has a hand full of foreigners at his side. And need I remind you, that Titan, as well as I, know more about your rebellion than we pretended."

"I do, very much so." Nesra replied in a confident manner. "You are the one who recruited me as a double agent. Who forced me against my will to betray my people. However, do you know that I too, pretended? That the foreigners was a means of a distraction. Since at this very moment, all your forces are at the mercy of mine, including that of the chelónas."

Yolane's smug expression faded, turned solemn as the researcher grinned. Carter stifled a snicker, hopeful until he stated the following.

"Although, even with this power at my disposal, you know only one thing can wipe it away in mere seconds. If the Jaffa and Asha cannot delay your husband, he will initiate Ramin's rebirth. None but his loyal followers will remain alive to forge a new era."

Yolane stared with a blank expression, the words as if a hammer. A sinking feeling formed a pit in her stomach. This was news to her, moreover to Sam, who lowered the P-90, shocked at the revelation. All this time, she'd focused on the mission's failure, on her own failures, trying to rectify it. Not once did she consider that there was more to Ramin than first discussed. Even the Lucian Alliance had a piece of the pie. Going as far as to use an Ancient weapon to lure them to a planet on the verge of an uprise.

"Yes, Commander Yolane, you and your forces were excluded from the beginning. The Alliance was a stall tactic and the foreigners bait to repair the Predominant."

He dipped his head at the guards, who saluted their allegiance and grabbed hold of Yolane. Surprising both her and the Lt. Colonel.

"What's this? I am your Commander!" She struggled in their hold.

"No, I am." Nesra dismissed them with a wave of the hand and turned towards Sam.

"Now, we have to make haste before Titan fulfills his plan and you lose O'Neill to the Predominant."


	15. Hanging by a Silver Cord

**CHAPTER 15** : HANGING BY A SILVER CORD

 **VERTICE MONTIS – PREDOMINANT**

Sentinel after sentinel paved the way, stacking like dominos alongside and across from another, 'til they reached their ten count. As guarding pillars, they glimpsed their leader and his captives walk by to the center of the warehouse encircling them.

From the crown of the facility, a shaft of light exposed the shape of a large disc on the floor. Titan directed the men trailing him towards its middle. There they lowered Jack to his knees, turned on their heels, snapped to attention and saluted their leader.

Titan dipped his head and veered left, towards a pudgy man drenched in an auburn cloak. His grey eyes studied an oak desk with a holographic monitor filled with code sequences.

"Guild, I believe you received the data I sent you?" Titan inquired as he stood beside him.

"Oh yes, Sire." He declared in fascination. "It is very promising, especially the statistics of the one called O'Neill."

"Yes, he's the perfect specimen. So to speak."

Both gazed at Jack before returning their attention to the desk.

"He is damaged goods, Sire." Guild professed concerned. "Whereas the younger soldier shows identical promise. Why not use him instead?"

Titan scowled at the caretaker before dipping his head at the sentinels. They helped the General to his feet.

"In order to heal the Predominant's defects, I have to offer a person that is just as broken."

"Sire?" Guild's brow furrowed with the question.

The governor gazed down at the shorter, heftier man.

"As you know, the secret of the Predominant is passed on from successor to successor. Furthermore, the gene is a main requirement."

"And the other Sire?"

He stepped forward, towards the shaft of light, glanced over his shoulder narrowing his eyes, thought fleetingly and spoke with a soft tone.

"If the weapon so happened to reach this point, an injured man could bring it back to its original state. Whereas a strong soldier could power it for future use"

"However, since the Predominant had protected Ramin since its initiation, there was no need for a wounded sacrifice. We had enough participants to renew it after each usage."

"Yes, and Dario, the only survivor with the gene, could fulfil one aspect and not both. Now you see the reason for my desperation. Moreover, do you perceive our fortune?"

The caretaker nodded in lieu of a reply. "What of the third? He suffers also. In fact, his condition's worse off than O'Neill's, who merely nurses a few fractured ribs. Would the third one not be more suitable for the weapon's repair?"

"He would be yes; nevertheless, the General holds characteristics that's pliable. The other man's intelligence, self-worth and frailty would only harm the process. Death would be instantaneousness. That's of no use to us. Understood?"

Guild curtsied his agreement and Titan's lips quirked into a malicious grin.

"Good, now activate the Predominant."

The caretaker adhered, wiping the codes to the side and called up the weapon's programming window. Typed in the command, lifted his eyes and watched how the guards stepped away from the General. Anticipation bubbled within, as he gazed at the shaft's pinnacle.

Seven tendrils emerged at a sluggish momentum and slivered down to its target below. Jack felt his knees buckle, the weight of his body too much for it to support. His equilibrium shifted and he toppled forward like a severed tree. However, soft fiber coiled around his wrists, halting his fall midway. Additional threads snaked around his waist, knees and ankles and hoisted him into the air.

Like a balloon, Jack floated in a white cloud, mind free from thoughts and body as flimsy as a leaf. He alone occupied the peculiar emptiness, while with each passing second, a calm surged through his veins. A strange albeit intoxicating sensation freeing his body from the pain. Though, in the recesses of his mind, he knew his strength drained into a starving machine encasing most of the mountaintop's interior.

In the haze, he heard the sound of a heart thud at a ravenous tempo. It flooded with exhilaration, veins full of adrenaline. Without question, this was Titan's soul. The heart rate impersonating that of a man fuelled with lust, greed and authority.

Next, beyond the governor's location, situated a heart that battled within an anxious man. Jack discerned it as Sheppard. It was at a dangerous high, the Lt Colonel struggling against his captors, to save him no doubt.

Off to the southwest, O'Neill perceived Teal'c's heart throb like a wild horse. He imagined the Jaffa stuck in cement, unable to rush from the shadows. Unfortunately, he didn't have the strength or support to penetrate through the sentinels' defenses. The beating of his heart slowed down, returning to its normal speed. Ostensibly, the man next to him had talked some sense into him.

On the outskirts of his awareness, a familiar rhythm resonated faintly. It was desperate. Passionate. Sympathetic. The classification of someone who cared for him beyond what was permissible. Carter located onboard a craft or spaceship, he surmised.

He sensed her yearning, dread and guilt tremor in his emotions. It was strong, yes, but her frustration and anxiety were unnecessary. She couldn't save him this time.

At her side, stood a man confident and resigned. The tempo of his heart alone convinced him, the man would lead Ramin with an honest respect. Furthermore, there was no doubt he would protect this city from the enemy. As he did the SGC and earth. Which meant, he had nothing to worry about, since those supporting him, had enough motivation to set Titan straight.

It was time to surrender. Let go. To give in to the weapon. Allow it to take his life in order to repair its systems. It didn't sound like his stubborn self, nonetheless, he was at a clear disadvantage. The only tangible comfort at his disposal were the sound of hearts drumming in the mist. They were beacons amidst a storm. Signposts on a journey. A loved one familiar in a crowd. Like a certain individual, he cared for dearly.

Jack sought after Carter's heartbeat. Somehow, it dinted the weapon's influence on him, drawing him as if they were night and day. Sam the latter and he the former.

The unyielding focus altered the heartbeat into an outline of a form. He saw the Lt. Colonel in his mind's eye. The tension running along her jawline as she gritted her teeth. The determined expression on her face. Finally, the famous Carter willfulness glinting in her blue eyes.

Attributes not readily available at Homeworld Security, where a sea of military dress blues came and went with the daily routine. The atmosphere so tense that not even his quirkiness could change it. Instead, he'd faded in with the throng. He was a lost treasure at the bottom of the ocean. Dramatic imaginary, he admitted. It definitely wasn't up to par with the rush and buzz of Stargate Command. There the fight was meaningful, the threat up close and personal, his support structure solid and constant, and familiar faces like a breath of fresh air. It was home he'd longed for during hours of relentless reports.

The white shroud lifted then, the world coming through in full view. Jack surveyed the commotion down below, but none was aware that he could see or hear them. He had the funny feeling that he was a spectator, permitted to observe their doings one last time.

At a perusing pace, Jack's eyes scoured the interior of the space. It appeared to be a desolate warehouse, apart from its minimal tech to keep it running indefinitely. Next, he marked each individual located on its floor. Twelve sentinels created a path from the double door entrance to what looked like a wooden table. However, from its base, similar to branches of a tree, transparent frames diverged into the air.

He noted Teal'c and an additional man concealed in the shadows, watching the display with strenuousness restraint. The Jaffa was strong and capable, but stacked up against a dozen armed men he came left, regrettably. He understood his friend's frustration clearly and felt it too.

His dark eyes came to rest on the governor. Titan walked from the table and headed for Sheppard. The Lt. Colonel was down on his knees, breathing labored as he nestled his side. He'd received a few blows already. Punishment for voicing his opinion, and there was no question that his assailant disliked the ranting. Regardless, Sheppard issued another threat, which Titan rectified with a right hook to his stomach.

Jack struggled against the hold, wishing he could help the Colonel; instead nothing happened. His body refused to move, the weapon too powerful to bend to his will. Then, in a flash, his world blackened altogether.


	16. Race Against the Clock

**CHAPTER 16** : RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK

"You wont' get away with this. My people will come and take back what is rightfully theirs."

Titan walked towards John and rammed a rounded fist at his stomach. The Lt Colonel fell to his knees, cradling the area as he struggled to breathe.

"Look at your General, soldier. I already have. And when your people come, they will be vanquished in the blink of an eye. You should never have crossed paths with me."

Winded, John glimpsed the limp form of his superior and looked at the governor.

"You wanna know something?" He challenged. Titan's eyebrow quirked in curiosity, smiling, while he resumed. "Yea? Come here; let me tell ya straight to your scarred face."

The governor came about and thrust his knee against the Colonel's chin and nose. The momentum dragged him down to his back, nevertheless, he rolled onto his side and then paused in the effort.

A golden symbol glinted in the shadows. John scowled, wiping at the blood that trickled down his nose and stared confused. The symbol moved up and down, Teal'c nodding at him to continue with the ploy. At least, that's what he thought it meant.

They were two against a dozen men armed to the teeth. Outmanned and outgunned, there was no way of success unless he used the governor as a diversion. Surprise attacks did wonders on a group – their missions proved it.

John signaled with a dip of his chin and gazed at Titan, who watched the spectacle with a mocking sneer. He struggled onto his knees, groaning as he did so. Placed his palms flat with the floor, released a heavy, frustrated growl and lifted his eye line.

The man knelt before him, almost as if to rub it in – his power, authority in his face. A cackle slipped past Sheppard's lips, and then he declared with a slow, anger-laced tone.

"I am Lt Colonel John Sheppard of the United States Airforce and we don't leave our people behind."

John thrust his head up, delivering a cracking blow to the governor's jaw and pushed off. By the time he reached him, blue currents enveloped the guards at his rear from behind. Afterward, as he grabbed Titan around the neck, another three fell down. He quickly disarmed him and shoved the revolver to his head.

"Stand down!" John shouted at the remaining guards who had stormed towards him. "Or your leader dies."

Without warning, rapid gunshots echoed one after the other, startling him, and then another three guards were down for the count.

"Sheppard!" Sam called out, announcing her presence.

Relief creased John's expression, as Carter and the man from Daniel's cell emerged from the darkness.

"Oh yes, nice timing."

Both trained their weapons on the four outstanding men, evening the odds of their standoff.

"Relinquish your weapons." Nesra said in a stern manner.

The Lt Colonel glanced at the sentinels as they followed the command. Smiled delighted with the turn around, and then noted the panic lining Carter's countenance as she glimpsed O'Neill suspended mid-air.

In response, John called out for Teal'c to join them and observed how he walked over and guarded the sentinels. Happy, he directed the revolver towards the caretaker huddled at the desk. He was the spitting image of a nutty professor; even his unruly hair fit the match.

"Release the General. Now." Sheppard demanded.

"I-I-I can't. The weapon's not . . ."

"Speak and you . . ." Titan threatened, but the Lt Colonel slammed the butt end of the gun against his temple. Like a sack of potatoes, he sunk down to his knees, disorientated. Next, John set the gun to his crown, and threatened once more.

"Do it or I'll kill your precious Sire!"

Guild bobbed his head at the demand, and at a fast pace typed in the instruction for the weapon to detach.

Sam wasted no time as she rushed for the General's position, sliding to a halt as the strands set his lifeless form on the floor.

"Sir?" She called as she went down to her knees.

A shiver snaked down Sheppard's spine, while he watched how she placed her fingers to O'Neill's neck. Waiting anxiously for a report.

"There's no pulse." Sam announced.

She positioned her hands on his chest and initiated CPR, wary of his ribs. The last thing she wanted was be responsible for a collapsed lung. She counted with each compression until thirty. Halted the action. Tilted his head back, opening his airway. Pinched his nose and breathed into his mouth.

Nothing happened, Jack stayed immobile.

"C'mon, c'mon." Sam urged as she reinitiated the compressions, stopped at the thirty count, breathed again and waited for a few seconds.

The surrounding atmosphere felt heavy, palpable even, as she glimpsed the audience gaze at her. Still, Jack remained unresponsive and she placed her hands on his chest. Tears gliding down her cheeks, as she started the CPR sequence for the third time.

Suddenly, he gasped aloud, body bursting to life.

The action surprised her at first, but then she noticed how he absorbed the trauma racking his body. A loud growl climbed in his throat and he shouted in agony, frame trembling in the aftershock.

"We need to get him to an infirmary ASAP." She directed at Sheppard in a panic.

Jack grabbed her forearm and murmured a timid 'no', shaking his head with the instruction. He felt cemented to the floor, muscles like shooting daggers as he processed the surroundings.

Sam cradled his head, forcing eye contact. Still, he said no. She saw how his eyelids wavered, the glint of the light, sharp and irritating. He shook his head again denying her instruction. The demand was out of the question; she wouldn't accept it and pleaded in a whisper.

"Please, Sir. Hang on. For me, please." He succumbed, nodding his consent and then slipped into a comatose state.

"O'Neill has given you his approval. Go!" Teal'c's voice thundered from beyond the desk. "Asha will escort you to the 'Gate."

"What about the Alliance? The weapon?" She asked concerned.

"You heard the man, Colonel. Go and get the cavalry!" John ordered over his shoulder. "It's imperative that the General gets the needed medical care. The rest of us will stay, help sort out the mess and gate back once the dust settles."

Sam nodded her thanks, glancing at the aide as he appeared before her.

"Grab his arm." She said, seizing Jack's left hand and elbow in a soft grip.

In tandem, they lifted him to his feet, distributing his weight between them best they could, and lugged him forward. Whereas Teal'c seized the caretaker and Sheppard the governor, and placed them with the four guards. Nesra on the other hand, quickly walked for the table, recalling the security hub to the screen.

"Do not worry, Samantha." He comforted as they passed by him. "There's a medical pod in the craft. It will sustain him until you reach your world."

"Thank you." She whispered.

* * *

"As soon as the glass slides into place, it will detect his vitals and act accordingly." Asha explained as they laid Jack in the pod. It had the familiar Ancient design to it, Sam noted, like the one from the Antarctic outpost.

In the corner of her eye, the aide moved for the craft's console positioned at its windshield. She gazed down at the pod as it slid shut. A soft hissing sound followed, a green light scanning his form. Next, it displayed his heart rate on the glass panel, above Jack's chest.

A few seconds later, she felt the transport hover above the ground, before rotating in the Stargate's direction. It pulled away at a gentle speed, though her mind was too distracted to confirm its true heading.

Before her, Jack was unmoving, countenance bleak and lifeless. He was asleep – she convinced herself, not dead as he were minutes ago.

Back there, in that moment, her world had frozen. The audience insects in the background, as she fought to bring him back to the present. Her own heart had beat like a hammer, breath caught in her throat as she begged him to come back to her. Conflicting thoughts and emotions had dueled at a relentless speed. Should she accept his death, or keep reinitiating CPR until his heart jumpstarted? She wasn't prepared to lose him, not now, not after years of fighting for each other's care.

She should never have convinced him to come. The stakes were high. The mission like any other. Nevertheless, deception had been grime on a mirror and the weapon a poisoned apple. Jack had received the bad hand, unfortunately, and she was the reason he'd suffered at the hand of Titan's cruelty.

Fear shivered down her frame and she shook her head, avoiding the horrible feeling. If it had no foothold, no traction, she could focus on the task at hand – escorting the General back to the SGC. Into the care of Dr Lam who'd studied his medical record like she did every patient's. But would it help, if the General's age and the moments of death negated it?

The following hours – they were life and death for Jack O'Neill. His willingness, his resolve and strength – the defining factors. All she did was give him a glimpse at an opportunity. An advantage for the team's sake and for her sake as well. To keep going was up to him now.

Sam placed a hand on the pod, the other on her forehead, closed her eyes and stood quietly for a while, focusing on the hum of the small craft as it zipped across the sky. Here and there, tears threatened to fall, but she swallowed them down.

During their SG1 years, they were kryptonite to the General, dissolving his military mask like snow. Now, the tears merely reminded her of the times they'd yielded to their emotions. This time, though, he couldn't recuperate with a hug or consoling words. She had to be strong, especially after the craft arrived at the Stargate. Then her own military veneer would sink into place.

All that mattered was Jack. Not the fear of losing him. Not the sorrow she'd experienced. The mission was far from over and the thought of leaving the team behind. It set her on edge, because it was her mess to clean up not theirs. Nor could she stay and help, until she knew the General was out of harm's way. There was no telling what the Lucian Alliance would do as retaliation.

Sam gazed up and peered through the oval-shaped window.

Ripples of cracks ran along the plateau, reminding her of her grandpa's wrinkles when he laughed at her goofiness. At a young age, they were a fascination to her, the mark of wisdom and years of endurance. _They're the trails to the crows' nest_ , grannie had joked.

This landscape appeared the same, as it spanned the horizon, with one exception though. The 'Gate's pinnacle rose above the cliffs surrounding it. The last sunrays of the day casting its form in a silhouette amber glow. It was beautiful and yet it marked the end of a terrifying day.

Then again, the day would only forfeit to the night when the team returned safely. Furthermore, Ramin's fate now balanced in the hands of a scribe, while Jack's condition lingered in the setting sun's dark shadows.

Sam shook free from the depressing reverie and felt the craft come to a slow, steady halt. They'd reached their destination. Finally.

"Come." Asha said as he vacated the pilot's seat and jolted for the door lowering to her right.

"Uhm, forget something?" Sam inquired with a raised eyebrow. "I can't carry the . . ."

He turned to face her and scowled. "Oh yes. Sweep your hand over the heart monitor. The pod will lift and follow."

Sam did as instructed and the case discarded air as it rose to knee height and waited for her to move. It was fascinating technology at work, and yet urgency surpassed the discovery. She sped walked down the ramp, setting her gaze on the dial-home-device, then, realised the aide hadn't followed.

Turning around, she directed the P-90 at the open door where he stood amazed. He threw his arms up in quick surrender.

"You're coming with me."

Asha lowered his arms, confident veneer slipping into place. "You are no longer my concern, Colonel Carter. I have other matters to attend to."

She shook her head and refuted in a firm tone. "No. No, this matter you will attend to. As you will explain to my superior _exactly_ what's happened here today."

"My duty is not to follow your instructions." Asha challenged sternly. "I merely fulfilled my portion of the plan. I have to leave and oversee the subjugation of Ramin's forces."

Sam released the rifle's safety and aimed at his forehead. He stood firm, dissimilar to what he had during his flight with Teal'c, even the nervous stutter was something of the past.

"And my duty is to this superior." She gestured at the case floating between them. "The man you see laying here. He's my leader and if he were awake, he'd give no room for negotiation. You wanna know why?"

He stared irritated, waiting for her to carry on.

"Because if Nesra were the one in the pod, General O'Neill would've surrendered to the request in a second. If only to mend what's broken in a potential alliance. Mostly, he would do it out of loyalty to his soldiers."

"I understand your . . ."

"No, you do not, Asha. This isn't just about you. My people's lives are at stake as well. I need you to explain what's happened, so that the necessary reinforcements can gate through and hold off the Alliance. So that all who are involved can survive."

They stared at another for a moment. Asha considering her arguments, whereas Sam's frustration rose with each passing second. She was gambling with the General's wellbeing, and in this game, she had more to lose than the aide did.

The minute snuck by at a turtle's pace. The seconds like nails driven into wood as it passed in her mind. _Oh for crying out loud!_ She heard Jack's aggravated exclamation. _The tension's killing me!_

"All right, I will yield." Asha finally conceded.

 _Oy! Not so hard was it now? Let's get a move on, shall we? Time's a wasting if we want to save this sorry excuse for a planet._

Sam smirked softly at his imaginary retorts, lowered her weapon, as Asha stepped away from the closing ramp, and turned on her heels to dial earth's address. Symbol after symbol spun at the press of each button, and she gazed up just in time to see the wormhole engage. Without delay, she sent her IDC through and informed the SGC to call for a medical team.


	17. Not There Just Yet

**CHAPTER 17** : NOT THERE JUST YET

 **VERTICE MONTIS**

The remainder of the team's radios boomed in tandem, Sam's voice following soon thereafter.

"Stargate Command, this is Carter. Please have a medical team on standby. General O'Neill's severely injured and is currently being kept alive by a medical pod. Furthermore, be advised, I have a native from Ramin with me. Stand fast."

"Copy that, Lt Colonel." Sergeant Harriman replied. "You have permission to proceed. SGC out."

Nesra gaped at the news, shaking his head in disappointment as John and Teal'c gazed at one another.

"That was not what I had expected of Asha." The scribe stared at the holographic display in misery. "He was to oversee the overthrow not join Samantha Carter."

"I believe there's a reasonable explanation for this." John provided.

"Don't you see what they are doing, Nesra?" Titan interjected taking advantage of the misunderstanding. "They don't trust you so they took Asha as leverage."

"Okay, that's enough." John said as he stepped towards the governor.

Titan smirked cunningly and ignored the soldier towering above him. Instead, peered by him at the scribe.

"You deceived the foreigners by using their own deception against them. Do you think they will take it lightly? Asha is their compensation. It's an eye for an eye, Nesra. An eye for an eye."

John narrowed his eyes in scrutiny and stated. "However . . ."

"Nevertheless." Teal'c interrupted in a stern manner.

The Lt Colonel glared bemused and then dipped his chin for him to continue.

"It is our protocol to request for a representative in order to exchange information."

The Jaffa turned towards the scribe, while his eyes lingered on the guards seated at his feet.

"You see, Nesra, Asha went along to establish the truth of this matter. And in response, my superior will send the necessary reinforcements to aid you and my team. Furthermore, it's unreasonable for Ramin to feel the Alliance's wrath for something we did. Even if your governor was responsible for negotiating our capture."

"It's a ploy." Titan countered. "Foreign soldiers on our soil means they can contend for possession of our city. They want the weapon and they are in the perfect position to overpower you."

Nesra slammed his hands upon the surface of the table and turned on his heels.

"Silence, Titan." He thundered, startling the man. Though, knowing the words fell on fertile soil, he recovered swiftly and urged once more.

"Consider why they sent spies ahead of them. Neither of our plans would have worked without their greed. They are complicit as well."

"Oh, you're good." John bit back. Teal'c merely raised an eyebrow.

This wasn't their argument to resolve, nor was it their place to influence Nesra in anyway. As new governor, he had to deal with the old one. In doing so, he had to focus on the current task, or the Alliance would destroy what little control he had in his possession.

"The question now . . . in this moment and time . . ." John supplied. "Is what you will do to save your planet? In my opinion, this discussion's a stall tactic on his part. For what? Hell I don't know. But it's a good guess that Ramin won't survive to see the sun rise tomorrow. And I, for one, kinda enjoy being alive."

His audience gaped in astonishment. Sheppard shrugged it off with an 'oh well' and then mirrored their expressions.

"What? Don't tell me I'm the only one." He gestured down at the men. "I bet you these guys wanna live too. They're just too shy to agree with me. Right?"

Guild and the four guards bobbed their heads eagerly, agreeing with the Lt Colonel. Titan kept his eyes on Nesra, adding panic to the man's silence. As he knew inside his mind, confusion bombarded in bucket loads.

"See?" John exclaimed. "No harm in asking. So what's the verdict? Need I remind you that there's a time limit involved."

The scribe gazed between the men who had voiced their opinions. Titan, he knew, was in a desperate struggle to outlive his sentencing. However, he couldn't ignore the man's statements. They directed him towards a possibility of betrayal on the outsiders' part. Moreover, he knew Carter had forced Asha to leave. Too much depended on the rebellion's survival for the aide to just simply submit. He was too passionate for it.

In fact, from the beginning he'd spearheaded the plan, willingly, proposing he oversee the takeover in sessions, starting by arresting key government officials. Yolane being the first of those individuals. Now Asha's disappearance forfeited the strategy, leaving him to rely on Dario's fellow soldiers to fulfill the empty slot.

Then there were the Jaffa's words to consider. If his people were to send aid, it was only natural to request an ambassador to apprise them of the situation. Frankly, the outsiders were at his mercy. He held the advantage not them.

Both sides needed assistance and he was in need of the soldier's help to restore the weapon's power.

Teal'c's radio suddenly distorted in the silence.

"Ah, this is Daniel. If anyone can hear me, we have, well; Dario has news you might be interested in."

"What is it with SG1 and perfect timing?" John inquired surprised. The Jaffa glanced at him before raising his eyebrow at Nesra.

"I believe it is the deciding factor in your decision. Nevertheless, I do agree with Colonel Sheppard. Time is of the essence. The longer we wait, the shorter time we will have to mount a proper defense against the Alliance."

"If I may?" Akuma spoke up for the first time. Titan gazed over his shoulder at the guardian, eyes like fiery daggers. He ignored him, setting his hopes on the new leader.

"You may." Nesra nodded curtly.

"You may not know this, but only a messenger's on the way. Not the Alliance as a whole."

"Did they explain this?"

"They do not trust that the governor will uphold his end of the agreement. The messenger will be here shortly."

"They've had individuals betray them in the past." Teal'c confirmed. "Expressly in their higher ranks. It is then foreseeable that they would send a representative in the leader's stead."

"In the event of avoiding a potential ambush of course." John added. "Makes sense." He gazed at the scribe. "Which works in your favour."

"I understand." Nesra agreed and then gazed at the Jaffa. "Can you ask what Dario has in mind?"

"Indeed." He curtsied his chin and relayed the question over the radio.

"Ah, good." Daniel began. "You heard Sam's relay."

"We did indeed, Daniel Jackson. Do you have a suggestion?"

"We do, yes. We explained Colonel Carter's actions to Dario, as I surmised you clarified on your end?"

"We did."

"Good. That's really good."

"Stop horsing around and get to the good part." Rodney urged in the backdrop. "Before we actually do die in this hellhole."

"That's McKay for you." Sheppard murmured with a grateful smile.

"Any who." Daniel dismissed, continuing with the previous thought. "He thinks Yolane can convince the rest to follow her lead. It will fill Asha's vacancy. Dario's even willing to give his life on behalf of his people. I have an inkling you know what that means, Teal'c."

Nesra nodded his confirmation and the warrior relayed. "Indeed, we know."

"Dario alone will not do in this instance." Guild declared in a shaky voice and directed his eyes towards Sheppard. "The soldier fulfills every requirement needed to set the weapon on track. More so than Dario."

"I've seen what that thing can do thank you very much." John declined.

"What you saw was a machine that used an injured man to repair itself. You will only experience slight discomfort and momentary lack of strength. Nothing that rest can't cure."

"Comforting to know, thank you." The Lt Colonel mocked.

"I-I-I have to admit." Guild continued. "Your leader's strength was quite remarkable to behold. A resolve beyond that of Ramin's notorious governors. He must be a great leader amongst your people."

"Uhm, something he would appreciate, I'm sure." He lied careful not to encourage the nutty professor, and then thought fleetly before gazing at the Jaffa. "What say you, Teal'c?"

"It is up to you, Lt Colonel."

"Thought you'd say that." John looked at the scribe. "And you? What do you want to do?"

Nesra regarded the floor, mind mulling over the turn of events. They were willing to go ahead despite of what he and Titan had done to them. They gained nothing in the aftermath, and he couldn't help but think that there was an ulterior motive involved. Nevertheless, Ramin could only survive if he compromised, as they have in this instance.

"I will not force you to do something that's against your will. For the mere fact, that there is no need to risk your life for a planet that's not yours. Thus, as you have heard, Dario will sacrifice his life willingly. The decision is entirely up to you."

Nesra tilted his gaze towards Teal'c and instructed. "Please inform them that Dario can proceed with his plan. I am sure Yolane will be eager to participate."

The Jaffa adhered, conveying the message whilst Sheppard glanced at the shaft of light. He gritted his teeth as the image of O'Neill came to mind. He couldn't imagine the pain the General must have endured. What those cords had taken from him in order to repair itself.

He shuddered at the idea.

On the other hand, O'Neill had yielded his life without deliberation. For him, for McKay and for the rest of SG1. It took a great deal of valor to do it . . . so willingly. Granting, the act did fit General Jack O'Neill to a tee. He never thought he would see it during his years as an Air Force soldier. Especially with the distance of galaxies between them.

The thing was, he had witnessed it and couldn't help but feel a sense of pride.

' _You're a fanatic my dear man_. The familiar remark echoed in his mind. _'Han Solo did it in a heartbeat'._ He then mimicked a possible McKay dare. _'Since you share the same nuts, you might as well let the Muppet from space hook you up. Go and save our asses from the Alliance and return a Milky Way hero. Sounds like you, yes?'_

"I'll do it." He declared with a grin ghosting his lips, and then joked when everyone regarded him. "What's the worst that can happen, right?"

He walked for Teal'c, tossed him the revolver as he veered right, towards the shaft of light, afterward pointed a finger over his shoulder and said aloud.

"Careful. Whatever that thing fires, it's definitely not silver bullets."

Once in the center of the disc, John turned to face them and resumed the lopsided discussion.

"It kinda reminds me of a classic comic book character." His face lit up in wonder. "Good ol' Rip Hunter. You know how cool that would be? Knowing you had a Time Master's gun." He dipped his chin as a smile hid the fear within. "Ah, hold onto that for me, will you?"

Teal'c nodded, observing how Nesra helped Guild to the table and initiated a command. Meanwhile, John raised his arms spread-eagle, closed his eyes and braced himself. He'd watched those things lift the General like a ragdoll. He couldn't help but envision Medusa's hair snaking down and turning him into stone. His body trembled somewhat – hating every bit of what was to follow.

"Uh, what are you doing, soldier?" Guild asked as he gaped at the strange behavior.

Sheppard peered through one eye. "The soldier's waiting. What are you doing?"

"It will not activate in . . ."

The caretaker's words distorted as he felt his feet turn to lead, the floor holding him in place like that of an astronaut's boots. When from above, a magnetic force pushed him down to knees, his rump nesting on his soles as the warehouse disappeared from his awareness.

Drifting in a void, he felt weak and helpless, like a speck of sand buried beneath millions. The Predominant perceived him as an ant. Inferior and small. He was nothing, when he knew it was a lie. It couldn't exist if it wasn't for his DNA, his strength surging within him. It was at his mercy.

John opened his eyes and stared at the emptiness above. A deep growl emanating from his throat as a cold shiver slivered down his frame. This was it, his last breath, thoughts, and last sight. After this ordeal, he would shrivel up like a withered branch. A dry brook weaving amidst a copious forest, cracked and broken, crying for a drop of water. The images plagued his mind for a few seconds, as the void above descended and covered him like a snug cloak. Smothering a lifetime like a candle's flame.


	18. Go East Young Man

**CHAPTER 18** : GO EAST YOUNG MAN

 **A DAY AFTER – STARGATE COMMAND**

Pain slithered its way from his toes. Ran along the outer edges of his skin as it traversed up his frame to the crown of his head. It was the strangest sensation, as if he submerged in a river and its force kept him pinned to its bed. Alarmed, he fought against the weight, seeking for the surface. To breathe. To open his eyes and see daylight.

"Please, just put me out of your misery." Rodney commented from afar.

John opened his eyes slowly, allowing the overhead light to fill his vision bit by bit. The outline of the infirmary shaped the background in a blur, whereas an outline of McKay's form filled the foreground. He blinked a few times before everything came into focus.

The Canadian sat on a chair, legs elevated on his bed, while a cheeky grin lined his lips. To the right, situated three empty beds, where beyond them, stood a petite nurse replenishing supplies.

His eyes fell on McKay. "Last time I checked, you were skirting death."

"Yeah, and the last time I saw you, you were Robert De Niro."

Laughter filled his chest and yet he groaned in pain, every muscle in his body recoiling in agony. He scowled. Rodney mirrored the expression, absorbing the pain along with him.

"Ugh, that hurts." John grunted. "No jokes . . . for the time being."

"Duly noted. You've been unconscious for the last twenty-four hours. That was scary stuff, Sheppard."

"Tell me about it." He swallowed a few times before voicing his need. "Water?"

Rodney leaned his head back and called out gruffly. "Oh, Nurse."

At the mention, her gaze snapped up, peering over the string of beds at him. Sheppard stifled a snort, smiling at the man's audacity. The water located on the table behind him, all he had to do was turn around and pour him a cup.

"This man needs water. Chop, chop, now. Before I report you for negligence."

" _McKay_." John said exasperated.

The nurse placed the last of the bedding in the cupboard and hurried across the room. In the meantime, Rodney turned his attention on Sheppard and stared oblivious.

"What? It's her job."

"It's behind you." John said looking past him.

"So what? I'm recovering too."

"Of course you are." The Lt. Colonel rolled his eyes in retort, glaring afterward, as the Canadian demanded a cup for himself.

The woman approached, composed, though a hint of animosity shone in her eyes as she handed Rodney the water. He took it without notice and a decent thank you. Next, she offered Sheppard the cup with a straw. He smiled appreciative, took a few sips and nodded his thanks. She placed it on his bedside, both men observing as she walked for the door and disappeared down the hallway.

"What did I miss?" John asked. "Besides your _astonishing_ recovery."

Shifting in the chair, Rodney's expression displayed that he'd discovered something incredible and voiced as such. "Glad you asked . . ."

"Which you will mention last." John cut him short.

"You're no fun, you know that?"

John grinned at the crestfallen expression on his face.

"Oh, on the contrary. Who's the one who declares he's discovered the mother-load every time we're scheduled to leave for a mission? Talk about all work and no play makes McKay a dull boy."

"Wow, what a mouthful for a bone tired flyboy such as yourself." Rodney scoffed.

"MENSA has its perks." He retorted and then got the conversation back on track. "Now, what happened?"

McKay folded his forearms over his chest as he stated annoyed. "You saved the day, what do you think happened?"

"Uh-huh, I thought General O'Neill did that, and that I was only a conduit in case the Alliance's fleet showed up."

"They did." Rodney confirmed deadpan. John stared in astonishment, so he clarified after a loud sigh.

"Not all of them though, but enough to see that puppy at work. The one minute they were there, and the next instant . . . gone, _poof_ , like a puff of smoke."

He gazed at the ceiling as if he were on stage portraying a dramatic masterpiece, while his mind envisioned the attack and continued when John didn't reply.

"The rest . . . well, it's history. Ramin is now under the control of ol' Nessie. The Governor will spend the rest of his years in prison. Commander Yolane, who is his wife by the way, she received a leaner sentence. Under house arrest, where she will assist the government when needed. The guy who helped Teal'c, stayed an aide, but with perks. And Dario, the man who attacked us in the chasm. They appointed him as new Commander after we returned to the SGC."

"That's it?" McKay nodded. "Hmm, sacrificing my life seemed so heroic at the time." John said, deep in thought as he gazed at the foot end of the bed.

" _Yes._ Such a stupid idea from someone so smart."

"Well, it was sort of your idea." He retaliated with a raised eyebrow. Closed his eyes as Rodney exclaimed, outraged by the accusation.

"What? Why the hell would I . . ." The Canadian halted and glared curiously. "Of course, it's kidding." His expression fell all of a sudden when John stayed quiet. "You are kidding, right?"

He opened eyes sluggishly. A sly smirk lined his lips next. "Not at all." He said. "You used Han Solo and all. It's what sold it for me."

"I think I should call Dr Lam." He offered worried. "Let her examine that lemon of yours, 'cause there's definitely a few screws bobbing about undone."

"If you say so . . ." John left the sentence dangling as fatigue settled in. "So how is it that you're bright eyed and bushy tailed? Those lacerations had left you for dead. Talk about scary."

" _Okay_." Rodney scowled dubious. "But maybe I should call her first, just to be safe."

John's eyes fell shut, sleep weighing heavy on his body. Ostensibly, the weapon had spent more of his energy than first believed. The nutty professor had said rest was required after the ordeal, so rest he would until he was back on his feet.

* * *

 **TWENTY-FOUR HOURS LATER**

"I should be the one in the wheelchair." Rodney grumbled as they exited the elevator on Level 28.

"I can't help that Ramin's doctors cured you at a rapid pace. Dang, if I knew that, I would've . . ."

"Gone through the 'Gate and let them deal with your crankiness?" Rodney added for good measure. Dipped his head at the passing soldiers before taking the corridor leading to the Gate room.

"My crankiness?" John exclaimed offended, peering up at the Canadian who bore a chaffed smile. "Since when are the roles swopped around?"

"Since you decided that helping SG1 dwarfed the completion of the Intergalactic Gate Bridge. At best – punishment for taking my advice at face value."

"Oh touché, McKay." John bit back.

"Oh, I'm just getting started, Colonel. I'm expecting ample compensation for the hell you put me through."

John turned in the chair and gazed up at Rodney whose grin dripped with complacency. He glared, wondering why the Canadian had offered to wheel him from the infirmary in the first place.

"Look, people." McKay said, directing his attention to the soldiers on duty.

"Yes, _exciting_. Mind filling me in why we're here. And, and why the SGC's permitting me to leave without hearing my side of the story."

"I thought MENSA had its perks. And since it's part of our daily routine, I thought it would obvious."

"Not in the mood, McKay." John reprimanded in a sour manner.

"Yes, yes, yes." He replied in quick procession, positioning the wheelchair a few meters before the ramp leading up to the Stargate.

"Our fruitless mission didn't coincide with the Daedalus' schedule."

The Lt. Colonel raised an eyebrow and then inquired. "Home or stopover?"

"The latter."

"Outer edge or midway?"

"The second one."

"Great. So it's fourteen days, give or take, cooped up in the Daedalus."

"It's so fascinating to hear someone who's spent little time on a battle cruiser sound so . . . _morbid_. Whereas yours truly might just as well be a part of the crew. Come to think of it. I would've expected a spacious lab in the Hanger Bay by now."

"And I expected that the crew would've spaced you by now." John retorted deadpan and then stated before Rodney could offer a reply. "Now that we've settled our indifferences. No welcoming committee?"

"Didn't realise we were popular." He offered absentmindedly.

"You, _no_. Me, _yes_. I did save Ramin's behind."

John halted in thought and gazed around the room before his eyes lingered on the ramp.

"And, by the way, after all the effort, no ambassador? I did supply the much needed for the much needed."

"It's complicated."

McKay grimaced and John narrowed his eyes, curious as to why none bothered to inform him of the outcome. Treating his participation like it was nothing. He and Rodney had risked their lives as well, almost lost it because of selfishness . . . on the part of everyone involved. The least they could do was be courteous and allow them to have a share in the botched mission. They were family after all. Distant, yes, but family nonetheless.

"Now don't tell me . . ."

"I'm not entitled to say."

"What? Not even a little birdie told me?"

"Nope. Just that I'm ticked off that they couldn't give me access to their Ancient technology. Do you know how much that sucks for someone like me? How it could've helped with the outpost here on earth? Not to mention the injection of advanced tech to the systems retained in this mountain?"

"I can imagine, yes. A real bummer."

"Exactly. It would've furthered our chances by let's see . . . eight to ten."

" _Astonishing_." John mocked exasperated. "It was like, what? Two to one before that turtle blew us up with four grenades."

"More like two to thousands." Rodney corrected as he changed location from behind the Lt. Colonel and moved to his left. Sheppard gaped, evidently astonished at the ratio.

"Oh, that's quite an . . ."

"Yes, quite an advantage we could've had, my friend." He said in a loathsome tone.

"I betcha you fought your ass off for It in the briefing."

"I did. Why do you think I want to leave so badly?"

"A rare act of kindness, I suppose." John offered with a wry smirk.

"No, it wasn't." Rodney stated upset. "Due to SG1's _clandestine_ undertakings, they devoured the SGC's chances of _ever_ getting their hands on the Predominant, and its trigger happy counterparts."

"Not even a peek at the turtles' designs?" John scowled at the absurdity.

"Not even."

"Wow, that's . . ." He gazed up at the Canadian, marking the defeat lining his countenance. "The possibilities of having those things on a mission. It's astronomical."

Rodney pouted. His expression fraught with misery. "Please, I've already imagined away and had my expectations crushed into tiny little pieces. It's a _no go_ and we've received nothing whatsoever for our support. Ironic, don't you think? Risking our lives for nothing. What are we . . . mangy dogs? It's preposterous."

"Disappointing, yes." John agreed, equally as dejected and gazed at the Gate before him.

"Essentially, it's not so much for you, Sheppard."

Rodney grabbed a bundle from the knapsack dangling from the wheelchair. John frowning in bemusement as he handed it over.

"What's this?" He inquired, inspecting the black silk cloth in his hands.

"A gift from Nesra, Colonel Sheppard."

Both men startled somewhat as Teal'c entered the room from the entrance to their right. John's eyes shone in surprise, while McKay acknowledged the Jaffa with meager enthusiasm.

"No way, I got the Time Master's gun?" He inquired astounded as the .45 Long Colt slid from its cover. His eyes combed over its details, something he didn't have the pleasure of back on the planet.

The Colt's grip was white with a lone silver wave curling around its butt-end. Whereas its barrel and chamber sported black engraved ferns. A one of a kind weapon designed specifically for the wearer, and now, it belonged to him. Moreover, it felt as if he were in a mixture of comic book worlds. In Trigun's realm more than Rip Hunter's, all the same, it was a cool souvenir to brag with back on Atlantis.

"Governor Titan's weapon to be precise." Teal'c said. "But yes, he thought it prudent to reward you, albeit inconsequential, for sacrificing your well-being for his people."

Sheppard disregarded the pleasantries with a wave of a hand. "Ronin's gonna be stoked. Jealous, definitely."

"I rather you didn't." Rodney intervened. "He no likey likey. Since his gun is the diamond in the rough back in the Pegasus."

"Yeah, and I have the Milky Way's one-and-only, so I call it even Steven. If he likes it, which he will, he can visit."

McKay stifled a snicker and retorted. "To each his own."

Sheppard narrowed his eyes at him, wrapped the Long Colt in the silk cloth and handed it back. He gazed at the Jaffa.

"Thank you, Teal'c. It's a remarkable treasure."

"Indeed. It is well earned Colonel Sheppard." He dipped his chin in respect before apologizing. "Please excuse the lack of audience, as the rest of SG1 is either on leave or in the Infirmary. Colonel Carter sends her regards, and I believe once General O'Neill awakens, he will convey his appreciation via the next update."

"Still unconscious, hey?" John winced, knowing how long it took to recover from the weapon's influence.

"Yes, he is. It seems as if the Predominant took more from him than what it did from you. Dr Lam believes he will awaken during the following hours or so. Nonetheless, due to his injuries, it will be some time before he's back to full strength."

"Yeah, I can imagine. And I was up to par when it got me in its grasp." His eyes flitted between the soldiers on duty and addressed Teal'c. "Send the General and the rest our good-byes. Despite the events and result of the mission, it was an honour to serve under his and Carter's command."

"As it were for us, Lt Colonel." Teal'c curtsied politely. John reflecting the same curt bow with a thankful smile.

"I believe we all are." McKay quipped tersely. "As much as it was a joy to aid our fellow combatants, we have our own Galaxy to tend to."

"Yes, so we must."

Grabbing the knapsack, Sheppard pushed off from the wheelchair and walked, slowly, towards the ramp. Looked over his shoulder, just in time to see Teal'c signal the dialing of the Stargate. Walter inserted the destination's address, while he directed his gaze to the 'Gate as the spinning sequence initiated.

"I heard this planet we're going to could make for an awesome golf course." Rodney said as he took position next to him.

"You're kidding? Really?"

Rodney breathed an exasperated sigh and glared annoyed. "Why would I go through the effort of telling you if I was kidding?"

John shrugged. "Don't know. You never seemed to pay attention when we're off . . ."

"I do . . ." He defended quickly. "When there's simply no other option but to listen to your rambling. How Ronin and Teyla endures, nobody knows. It's painfully boring, but it's the only way to get through those excruciating silences."

"Didn't know you cared, McKay." He teased.

"We're not going to bond over a game of golf afterward are we?" Rodney pleaded uncomfortably.

In the background, Walter announced the last chevron and the familiar wave sprouted towards them. Both men squinted at the glint, and then glanced at the Jaffa behind them.

"Farewell Dr McKay and Colonel Sheppard. I hope we'll meet again soon."

"Yes, Teal'c, so do we." John said, cuffing McKay's shoulder when he grimaced at the prospect.

"He's hopeful on the inside." He gave the Jaffa a sloppy salute. "Cheers for now."

He pushed the Canadian up the ramp, while a bright, shrewd sneer curled his lips. Rodney's shoulders slouched, knowing the Lt. Colonel had something on his mind.

"Once we get home, I believe there's an impending celebration."

"What are you on about now?" He griped as they halted before the event horizon.

"Back in the chasm, you asked if I was free . . ." John stepped into a side stance, drilling the man with a cheeky expression.

"Yes, free to dig me out of the tomb." He hissed, quickly on the defense.

"Don't deny it, McKay. You asked and I said it depended."

"On what?" Rodney asked frustrated.

Sheppard leaned over, shoulder partially within the event horizon. He soaked in McKay's annoyance as it brewed beneath boiling point.

"If there's a beer included with the invitation." He concluded in a sarcastic fashion, stepping through without waiting to see the man's reaction.

"That's it!" The man declared livid as he followed suit. "No more side jobs for you."


	19. FINIS

**CHAPTER 19** : FINIS

Jack's body felt numb as he stirred in a sluggish manner. The private infirmary room faded in through the chaotic haze and his eyes fluttered a few times, mind struggling to stay conscious.

Barely noticing the dark observation room, he scanned the rest of the area. He could've sworn that someone had been there moments ago. Then something warm against his right hand drew his attention. Strands of blond fluff hiding Sam's face from view, however, he saw enough to notice the tranquil expression together with the tension running along her jawline.

She was exhausted, that much was clear. Still blamed herself no doubt, which was tiresome in its own way. Her mind had seen to sapping precious energy from her body. He winced in sympathy. His sacrifice tortured her more than it did him. He couldn't help that it was second nature, and yet, so was it for her to worry about him.

Jack soaked in the silence, subsequently realising it only directed his attention to the state of his health. Every muscle and bone in his body hurt, not to mention he still had the fractured ribs. Even with a dosage of morphine, the undercurrent felt relentless.

His eyes lingered on the Lt. Colonel once more. She'd saved his life, bringing him back from death. Connected to the weapon, he'd heard her heart beat on his behalf, and it had shown him the true nature of their friendship. It also had revealed and confirmed what hid beneath his own military veneer.

Jack closed his eyes, contemplating whether he should yield or stay withdrawn. Perhaps, allow one brief moment of weakness to guide him from this point onward. Without further thought, he moved his hand, taking delight in the sleep-filled groan as she protested.

"We should stop meeting like this, Carter." He croaked.

Like a rocket, her head snapped up and she scowled in confusion. "Sir?" She asked, whilst her blue eyes fought through the mist.

Jack stifled a laugh, coughing instead as her gaze remained in its puzzled frame.

"Ah, need anything, Sir?" Sam inquired more seriously, but failed to hide her drowsy expression.

"Water would be nice."

"Water? Oh yes, water." She twisted left in search of the beaker. "Water?" She called as she turned in the opposite direction.

At the foot-end of his bed, stood the cup with its straw on the portable white tray. Jack smirked at her odd behaviour, acting as if she was a young Captain again. Anxious to prove herself for a second time.

"Relax, Captain Carter." He joked as she approached.

Sam stared, wondering if the General had suffered memory loss, but he waved it off with a meek hand gesture.

"I'm okay. Would you . . ." His eyes directed towards the object in her hand.

She followed the motion and brought it forward. He sipped gently and gradually, enough to clench the dryness and leaned his head back into the pillow. Sam looked at him with a distant gaze, at a loss for words.

"Sit." He said in a soft tone and she did so at a quick speed, her gaze all over the place except on him.

"Give me your hand."

Sam resisted at first but yielded nonetheless when Jack urged with a curt _c'mon_. Her hand slithered between his palm and the blanket, and took hold of his hand in a vice grip. A soft handshake from someone who saw him as a delicate flower.

Both regarded the embrace as if it were a rare yet costly action. Never to be seen again; a once in a lifetime opportunity. Jack swallowed, cursing the fact that he too, was at a loss for words. A hug normally sufficed, severing the barrier between leader and follower for a brief instant. But this moment was so much more. Precious and intimate, and it was worth crossing the boundary for.

"Thank you, Carter." He whispered.

"For what?"

"For being there for me." He concluded with expression affectionate and vulnerable.

Sam soaked in the meaning behind those words. They belonged to her, where she had used them when she'd sought after comfort. Jack O'Neill's comfort. Now, it was the other way around. He needed her; her solace and care.

"Always, Sir." She replied in like manner.

"Let's drop the formalities for a minute?" He requested, closed his eyes fleetingly to think, and then answered the question. "Yeah, let's."

A coy smile slinked across her lips, while her heart flooded with joy.

"How are you doing?" Carter asked sincerely.

"Like a tank rammed me over." He moved to sit and fell back against the pillow in agony and exhaustion. "Yup, can still feel its weight."

"Should I call for Dr Lam?" She asked concerned.

Jack stared, wondering why she wanted to interrupt their moment. At least, he thought they were having a moment.

"Making you nervous am I? _Sam_."

Her cheeks flushed, the use of her name making her feel like a smitten teenager. She shook her head. Jack smiled, amused by her silence.

"Good, 'cause one doctor is more than enough, thank you."

"Astrophysicist." She corrected. "There's a difference."

"Really? Hadn't noticed."

A snicker echoed faintly in the room as Sam enjoyed the light banter.

"Of course then, I tried hard not to notice all those scientific words sailing over me. But who in their right mind could ignore those sparkling blue eyes during every explanation."

" _Sir._ " She emphasized playfully.

"Du'oh. You're incorrigible, you know that." He chuckled under his breath.

"Jack." Sam corrected with a broad smile.

"That's better." He commended. "How are you?"

"Me?"

"No, the nurse behind you." He said deadpan.

Sam glanced over shoulder, on the alert and desperate to let go of his hand. Jack held on regardless. He knew no one was there. He also knew it was a bad example to use as a sarcastic sentence. On the other hand, it was adorable to see her squirm. Eye opening as well.

"Yes, you, Sam."

"Why then?" She turned her gaze back on him. Frowned in confusion as he sighed.

"'Cause you need to get out of that head of yours. Like I have ordered you to do, so many times before."

"Of course, I'm hard on myself." She replied in a detached tone. "I wonder where I got it from."

"Me?"

She dipped her chin in lieu of a reply. Bit her bottom lip as they continued to stare at one another. Jack closed his eyes, waiting for her brilliant mind to catch on.

In matters of the heart, she was slow at times. On the matter of work, she was quick as lightning. Then again, was he any different? They weren't, because the one thing they did excel at, was the military. Each comfortable in their separate ranks and stations, when in their lives outside of work, it was a whole different ball game. Quite literally. Either way, he was too tired to argue or explain or to do anything. Sleep threatened to pull him back into a dream state, and for some strange reason, he desired for it to happen.

"Never mind." He sighed and tilted his head away. "Good night, Sam"

Carter watched as he drifted off to sleep and then corrected crestfallen. "It's 3:00 A.M. actually. It's good morning, Jack."

* * *

 **FOLLOWING EVENING**

Sam watched as Daniel and Teal'c left the infirmary room with smiles on their faces. Inspected the nurse and Dr Lam fuss over the General. Turned away and then crossed her arms as she gazed up at the observation room. A secondary nurse switched off its light, but somehow, she kept her attention on the empty room.

During the day, the General had woken up in several intervals, relaying his side of the mission as the hours progressed. His story about the weapon and that of Sheppard's held discrepancies, which Guild had clarified before the men had even relayed their reports.

Ostensibly, it would be at variance, since the Predominant operated differently from any other weapon they'd come across. However, she couldn't shake the feeling that it reminded her of the Goa'uld. Like them, it needed a host in order to survive, when unlike the parasite, it could wipe an entire fleet with a snap of one's fingers. Leaving nothing in its wake.

"Sam."

She turned to face Dr Lam and quickly queried. "How's our patient doing?"

The women turned to face the General, who was propped upright in the bed. He gave them a frustrated glare as they walked for the exit and into the hallway, away from prying eyes and ears.

"Fortunately, his recovery will follow the same route as the Lt Colonel. What's more, by the end of the week, he'll be able to do light exercises to help with those ribs of his. All three, I might add, are healing as expected."

"That's good news, Doc." Sam said delighted. "He'll appreciate the change in routine."

The Doctor mirrored her grin. "Yes, I believe he will. I'll be back in an hour or so to check up on him. And a nurse will be stationed down the corridor. So if you need anything?"

"Yeah, I'll shout."

Dr Lam frowned as she noticed the Lt. Colonel's distant gaze.

"You've been here since you brought the General in. You need to rest."

"I know. I'll do so when I'm certain he's asleep."

"I'll hold you to that, Sam." The Doctor replied sternly, knowing her advice fell on deaf ears. "If General O'Neill discovers you've . . ."

Sam glanced over her shoulder, and noted how he stared at them slyly.

"He already knows, Doc. All too well."

Dr Lam turned around, smiling broadly, as she did so. Sam moved by her and entered the room.

"I'll see you later." The Doctor announced at O'Neill.

"Can't wait." Jack called out and when she disappeared down the passage, whispered. "Warlord."

He then gazed with a watchful eye as Sam took a seat on the chair stationed to his right.

"I think people study to become doctors because they enjoy dishing it out."

"So, in other words, they like to cause pain . . . on purpose." Sam queried with a raised eyebrow. A faint smirk quirked her lips.

"Exactly." Jack agreed, pointing a finger at her.

"Actually, I believe it's the opposite. They do so in order to save good people like yourself from certain agonizing death."

"Yeah, doesn't mean I need to like it."

The pair shared a humorous grin for a curt moment before Sam gazed at the blast door. Jack stared at his hands, swallowed, face creased in a frown before he looked at her.

"What's up? You've been preoccupied since last night."

She gazed at the floor and narrowed her eyes, showing she thought deeply.

"Ever since the debriefing, I've been wondering what the outcome could've been." She paused in thought and then lifted her gaze. "I knew the assignment skirted uncharted waters. Knew the risks involved. Knew that if I gave Daniel the time he needed to find Merlin's weapon, we could've had an advantage over the Ori. I allowed pride to fuel my doubt, 'cause I simply couldn't wait. And in the end, we all drowned beneath those waters."

"I can see that." Jack stated. "But you're drowning in something that was out of your hands. Plus, if I had thought the mission wasn't worth the manpower, then I would've denied the request. And even if I knew of the team's motive and dishonesty, I still wouldn't have sanctioned it."

Sam gazed at him, wanting to explain, but he continued.

"So you second guessed yourself. During my time as a Colonel, I did the same. Numerous times for crying out loud. You were there for the most part, and now I have two stars on my lapels to show for it. My point is: the mission went to hell, yes, and yet, we're all still alive and back on home soil."

Silence engulfed the atmosphere, both staring at something other than each other.

"I take it you agree with General Landry's final decision?" Sam questioned after a while.

"Asha didn't give us any other option but to be neighbours. Besides, a liaison between two planets can't be built on betrayal. Which basically was the basis of everyone involved."

The Lt. Colonel dipped her chin in accord, Jack thinking for a bit before he concluded.

"Honestly, now that we know what the weapon's all about. Add to that my personal experience with that thing; I'm not willing to sacrifice good, loyal soldiers. It's a cliché, I know, but there you have it. I agree with how things turned out."

"And the chelónas? It's the only thing I regret not getting my hands on. They would've made our attack on the battlefield easier and placed less soldiers in harm's way."

"Yes, it would've, but due to our goal to expand on battle cruisers, we can't sustain its requirements. Besides, it wasn't on the table, so it's not a loss in my books."

He exhaled a heavy sigh, Sam scowling at the sudden change in behaviour.

"Personally . . ."

Jack left the sentence hanging, waiting on her to respond. Then lowered his gaze to his fidgeting hands, expression displaying differing emotions.

"Sir?"

He inhaled a deep breath and gazed at her. "Yeah?"

"I don't know; you wanted to say something." Sam said, noticing the weight behind his reply.

He held her gaze, contemplating whether he should continue or not. Last night's informal conversation still lingered, skirting that boundary they had agreed not to cross. However, presently, he'd realised how much he'd missed her company, not to mention that of the team's. More so, her presence, friendship and assurances. The saying was true about leadership – it sure was lonely at the top.

"When I saw the plaza torn to pieces . . ."

Sam nodded her understanding. She'd felt the same sinking feeling in that moment when the first explosion struck their location. The same kind of fear for his life, the same care and loss. She leaned forward, lifted his forearm and wrapped his hand with her own. Afterward, placed her forehead on his knuckles and closed her eyes.

A gentle smile crossed Jack's lips, face opening up in a loving expression as he regarded her.

The woman he'd met ten years ago still saw him as her safe haven. So perhaps, it was time to transform those boundaries into lines drawn in the sand. Since by a breath of air they simply . . . disappeared.

* * *

 **FIN**

* * *

Thank you to all who have read, reviewed, followed and liked the story. I appreciate the support and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Especially the bantering and bickering conversations exchanged between the characters. It was great fun.

Have a lovely week, month and year ahead everyone.

Cheers, innovare


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